Hive of Scum and Villainy
by CatChester
Summary: Felicity is determined to move past her feelings for Oliver, a quest that's aided when the businessman, Bruce Wayne comes to town, and sets his eye on Oliver's cute IT girl. When their date is rudely interrupted by Gotham City's new vigilante, the Bat, Team Arrow set their sites on him. The Bat has his eye on a larger target however, and is going to need all the help he can get.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Hive of Scum and Villainy

Author: Cat Chester

Rating: M

Paring: Oliver/Felicity, Felicity/Bruce

Disclaimer: Not mine. Just fixing what needs fixing and will give them back when I'm done.

Spoilers: Fixing what happened with Sara in 2x13

Summary: Felicity is determined to move past her feelings for Oliver, a quest that is aided when the handsome businessman, Bruce Wayne comes to town, and sets his eye on Oliver's cute IT girl. When their first date is rudely interrupted by Gotham City's new vigilante, The Bat, Team Arrow sets their sites on him. The Bat has his eye on a far larger target however, and is going to need all the help he can get.

AN: Bruce Wayne is based on no particular incarnation but rather, is reimagined for the Arrow universe.

* * *

**Chapter One**

Felicity backed slowly out of the foundry and gently closed the door behind her. She didn't think they had heard her, which was odd given their preternatural instincts but then again, they had been otherwise occupied at the time.

She should have known when she heard the first moan, it was obvious really but like a glutton for punishment, she had rounded the shelving and seen Oliver and Sara going at it like a couple of horny teenagers.

That was the moment at which her heart shattered, because she could no longer lie to herself.

She used to tell herself that she wasn't Oliver's type, he liked brunettes, which she was not. A few times she had considered dying her hair back to it's natural brunette but had reasoned that if Oliver so shallow as to judge by hair colour, she didn't want a relationship with him. Felicity wasn't going to change for any man, not even a billionaire hero like Oliver.

After Russia, she had clung onto his words, wanting to believe that he couldn't be with anyone he cared about. Now she saw that it had been a lie, because she knew from previous interactions, that he cared a great deal for Sara.

The simple truth was, he didn't think she was good enough for him, and that hurt more than she would like to admit.

She made it to her car before the tears overcame her, and she hunched over the wheel, willing her vision to clear for long enough to get home.

It didn't, so she was stuck in the alley behind Verdant, worried that at any moment, Oliver might happen across her and demand to know what was wrong.

Luck finally seemed to be with her as when her tears did abate, she was still alone. She drove home as quickly as she dared.

Once there, she changed into her night clothes, retrieved a tub of vanilla ice cream from the freezer, then sat on her couch to watch Dr Who DVDs.

She supposed that she had known the truth all along, she just hadn't wanted to admit it. She knew that since Lance already used her as his contact to the Arrow, she was in danger; if he had made the connection between her and the Arrow, others could too, so being with Oliver didn't increase the risk she was in. Indeed, hardly anyone knew that he was the Arrow, so being his girlfriend was probably safer than being the Arrow's sidekick.

She could argue herself into or out of almost any frame of mind however, and she had argued herself into believing that Oliver cared about her, or at least, he could care about her, if he ever dared to take the plunge.

Now she couldn't deny it any longer, not without insulting her intelligence, and she wasn't that naive.

'_So what now?'_ she wondered, taking another spoon of her ice cream. Then the irony of her actions hit her. Vanilla ice cream? That was it, wasn't it? She was too vanilla for a man like Oliver. He liked his women to be murderers, cops with guns, assassins and evil business women. Felicity wasn't any of those things. Felicity was nice, normal, and safe. She would probably never know how it felt to be a cold blooded killer. She would probably never experience torture. She would certainly do her best to avoid both experiences.

But she was couching it in nice terms there, the truth was, Felicity Smoak was boring, at least as far as Oliver was concerned.

It was good that she had found out though, because it gave her time to consider how to react. The word, '_Leave,'_ floated through her mind. It wasn't as if she had to stay, she was contacted an average twice a month by firms wanting to headhunt her, so she had plenty of offers.

It didn't matter how many offers she received though, she knew she couldn't leave. Not because she loved Oliver, she wasn't that shallow, but because she made a real difference working with him. She saved lives, how many people could say that about their jobs? And not just possible lives at some unspecified point in the future, people who would be dead tomorrow or the next day, if she didn't discover the whereabouts of, say, the earthquake machine.

Besides it wasn't like Oliver was suddenly a bad person for not loving her back.

As much as she wanted to, she couldn't hate Sara either; she hadn't stolen Oliver away from Felicity, because Oliver wasn't hers to be stolen. Sara probably had no clue how Felicity felt, they simply hadn't spent enough time together for Sara to have heard too many of her verbal faux pas.

So where did that leave her?

Hiding her feelings, she supposed.

Most people thought that Felicity had no brain to mouth filter and so was unable to lie convincingly, but that wasn't true. She could lie well enough to act in Hollywood when she needed to, she had already played the roles of a delivery girl, a card counter and a secretary to perfection. She only rambled when she was herself, because she was never sure how much to reveal.

So that was the answer, she had to play the part of Oliver's sidekick, IT expert and friend at night, as well as playing his secretary during the day.

Considering that she spent an average of fifteen hours a day with Oliver or Team Arrow, that was a large portion of her life to spend acting as if she was someone else, but what other alternative was there?

She couldn't tell Oliver how much he had hurt her, because that would sound pathetic, needy and desperate, three things which she would not allow herself to be.

She felt better now that she had a plan and got up to put the ice cream away. As she walked back into her living room, she idly wondered if she'd wake up in five years, no longer able to tell who the hell Felicity Smoak really was? Because surely it was impossible to know yourself when you spend too much time playing a part.

Did Oliver ever feel like that?

It didn't really matter one way or the other, because she had no choice but to pretend that this hadn't hurt.

She wondered about going back to the foundry to check on the program she had left running but it would wait. Walking in on them once had been bad enough, she wasn't about to risk it again. And from this point on, she would make as much noise as possible when entering, giving them ample time to hide their activities.

* * *

Sara felt like the dumbest woman on the planet. How could she have done that? Had the first time with Oliver taught her nothing?

Laurel was still pissed at her, and rightfully so. As far as Laurel was concerned, Sara was still that same irresponsible kid that had left six years ago, a kid she hadn't forgiven yet. A kid she never would forgive if she discovered that Sara was _still_ sleeping with Oliver Queen.

And in a dusty basement on training mats. The setting was as low rent as she felt right now, which was fitting.

She sat up and pulled her t-shirt on.

"Sara?" Oliver looked puzzled by her behaviour and was giving her a questioning look.

"Laurel can never know about this," she said, hurriedly snatching her clothes up and running to the bathroom to change.

She couldn't look herself in the mirror as she dressed because she knew the guilt she would see there. She already felt enough guilt, she couldn't stand to see more.

Laurel was right in a way, Sara had stolen her life. Sara _had_ run off with her boyfriend, she _hadn_'t called to let them know she was alive, she _was_ responsible for her parents' divorce. Her death was even the catalyst for her father pursuing the Doll Maker so hard, which was the reason he had kidnapped Laurel.

Even when trying to keep her family safe, Sara was the reason that Laurel had been poisoned with snake venom.

She had known that running off with Oliver was wrong, she just hadn't foreseen the massive chain of horrendous events that it would be the catalyst for.

And here she was, repeating the same mistakes because she wanted to feel better, at least for a little while.

Only she felt a thousand times worse now, as if she had betrayed Laurel all over again.

Sara didn't feel like she deserved to be happy, she had taken too many lives to ever feel that weightless and carefree sensation that happiness came with, but Laurel still had a chance at recovering from her addiction and leading a normal life, and Sara intended to do everything she could to make sure that happened.

When she emerged from the bathroom Oliver was pacing the floor, also dressed once again.

"I'm sorry," he said, seemingly having had the same realisation she had. "I shouldn't have done that, I don't know what I was-."

"It's not your fault, Ollie, but it can never happen again."

He gave her a nod of understanding and turned away.

"Where are you staying?" he asked.

She followed him over to the desks. "With my father. My Mom's staying too, although she wants me to go back to Central City with her when she leaves."

"Will you?"

"I don't know, maybe for a few days but I want to try and get through to Laurel first. We'll see. Besides, I don't think living with you, even in a mansion so big we'd never have to see each other, would be wise at the moment."

"I, uh, I think I moved out." He began tidying the workout space, pulling arrows and throwing knives out of the wood covered wall, putting the training dummy back where it belonged, out of the way.

"What?" She hadn't expected him to say that.

"Yeah, things are… complicated."

"Have you got a place to stay?" she asked. Not that she could offer him one.

"I'll stay here until I find somewhere."

"Ollie, you can't sleep here, it's too cold and there isn't even a proper bed."

"I'm sure Felicity will find me a place in a day or two. If she doesn't, I can always check into a hotel, or stay with Diggle."

"You take that girl far too much for granted," Sara said.

He turned to her, frowning. "No I don't."

"Oliver, you have a certified genius there who got her PhD in programming and computer science when she was twenty two, and you have her typing up memos and serving coffee."

"She doesn't make coffee," he said defensively.

"Fine, typing up memos and finding apartments for her boss then, either way, she didn't put herself through all that education and take on so much student debt, just to be an EA."

"How do you know so much about her?" he asked.

"I spoke to her the last time I was in town, she's a nice girl, and she treated me like I was normal, which I'm grateful for."

"I don't know what else I can do," Oliver shrugged. "I need her and without the cover story that she works for me, people are going to get very suspicious of me spending so much time with her."

She wondered when Oliver was going to admit to himself, how he felt for Felicity.

She understood why he wanted to push her away, Felicity was light and laughter, while he was darkness and blood, but that didn't change how he felt about her. Sara had stayed away from her family, knowing that they could never accept her if they knew the truth about her, and that she was still putting them in danger by being here. The assassins might have let her go but she had other enemies; you couldn't be an assassin and not make enemies. But she wasn't sorry to be back with them. She loved them. She just had to make sure that her mother and sister never discovered her past, and that her enemies never discovered her.

"We have to organise a formal meeting," Sara said, having dwelt quite enough on relationships and past mistakes for one day.

Oliver nodded. "I'm just waiting for the call from your family but don't worry, I'll act surprised."

She gave him a ghost of a smile.

"I should get going, Mom and Dad are..." her words trailed off as she realised how odd those words sounded. She had a mother and father again, although she could never feel like a child once more; that innocence was forever lost to her. "They're probably worried, so I should go."

Oliver walked over to her and for one heart stopping moment, she wondered if he was going to kiss her again. That would be bad. Very, very bad.

"I'm glad you're back," he said with sincerity. "And if you need a job, legal or illegal, call me."

"You want me to come work at QC?"

He shrugged. "I want you to know that you have options, friends who will help you in any way they can."

The smile she gave him this time was more heartfelt. "Thanks."

She turned and left, wondering about how a man could seem so lonely, when he was surrounded by people who cared about him.

* * *

Operation Sidekick was now in effect.

She had put a lot of thought into this role and had decided that sidekick-Felicity would probably look more like last year's Felicity, with curly hair, a semi-permanent ponytail, nice but not designer clothes and mostly flat shoes. Sidekick-Felicity would also use bright pens and pencils, have her own mug at the office for beverages and keep takeout menus in her desk drawer.

So she turned up at the office on Monday morning with her trademark hair style, fairly large earrings, a set of interesting pens and pencil toppers from home, a set of heart shaped post-it notes and wearing a navy pants-suit with a white shirt and low heeled black boots.

She thought that she looked very professional, if a little dull.

Oliver wasn't there, so she headed straight to her desk and began the day's activities.

Oliver came in ten minutes later, carrying his usual two coffees. Their agreement was that as long as he brought her a morning coffee from her favourite coffee shop, she would serve any visitors refreshments. If she fetched a lot of coffee on any particular day, Oliver would add a cupcake or cookie to the coffee the next day.

She smiled as he approached and took the coffee from him, inhaling the aroma as she removed the lid.

"Thank you," she said, as she usually did.

"Did you have a good weekend?" he asked.

"Fine, you?"

"Yeah, it was okay, I guess."

Felicity wondered what to say in reply to that but _'Sex with Sara sounds like more than 'okay you guess',_ _but whatever,'_ sounded too bitchy for either sidekick-Felicity or secretary-Felicity to say.

"I thought you might come by the foundry," he continued. "I saw you left a program running."

"I was going to but I've been getting so behind on my laundry, so it was stay home and do that, or come to work in Hello Kitty PJs."

He smiled at her but it didn't reach his eyes and she wondered what had him so sad. New relationship-Oliver wasn't usually sad. Troubled perhaps, but not sad.

Perhaps Mrs Queen was right, and he didn't appreciate knowing the truth about Thea's parentage.

"I have a favour to ask you and I know it's not within the remit of your job, your real one or your pretend one, but I was-"

"Spit it out, Oliver."

He took a deep breath. "Can you find me an apartment in the city for under five thousand a month, with room to entertain up to twelve people, then arrange to have my things at the house packed up and moved over?"

"You moved out?"

Oliver nodded. "I couldn't stay there, not knowing what I know."

"I'm _so_ sorry, Oliver."

"This isn't your fault, Felicity, none of it. Remember that."

She just hoped that he remembered it too. "I'll get right on it." She turned to her screen and opened the browser. "Any timescale?"

"As soon as. Today if you can do it."

"Do you want to see first, or do you want me to view it?"

"Do what you think is best, I trust your judgement." He got his wallet out and handed her his credit card. "Put the deposit and first month on there."

"I'm on it. A printout of your schedule is on your desk but you don't have any meetings in for today."

"Thank you." He headed into his office and while his back was turned, she took a few deep, calming breaths.

It seemed like a cruel coincidence, that she was tasked with finding Oliver and Sara a home but since she was the reason he had left the mansion, she couldn't in all good conscience say 'no'.

This acting was going to be harder than she expected but she didn't see that she had any other alternative.

* * *

When Felicity came back after lunch, she marched straight through in to Oliver's office.

"Here." She placed a set of keys in front of him and a slip of paper. "This is the address. It's fully furnished and I found a packing firm to move your belongings. Your maid, Raisa, has agreed to oversee the move, making sure they take what they should and not what they shouldn't."

"You found a place already?" He was surprised, she had only been gone for an hour, her usual lunch break.

"Yeah." She handed him an envelope. "That's the rental contract, if you give it back to me as soon as you've read and signed, it, I'll messenger it over to the agent. I've also organised for a housekeeper to go in twice a week to keep the house and your wardrobe in order."

"You think of everything."

"I try." She turned and headed back to her desk. She could feel Oliver's eyes on her as she sat down and wondered if he would ever realise that he had an Adamson Award winner working as a glorified typist. Probably not. Even if he knew, he probably had no idea how prestigious that award was in the technological world.

But she had promised herself that she would not focus on her day job, it was her night job that mattered.

* * *

Oliver didn't have time to properly look around but he did want to see his new home, which was the penthouse in an upper class apartment block on Park Crescent, with a magnificent view from all sides, but the park was his favourite.

It had four double bedrooms, a massive living room, dining room, a cosier but still large study, and a kitchen that wasn't much smaller than the conference room at QC. It was tastefully decorated in marble, wood, glass and leather, which created the perfect balance between elegance and warmth.

Felicity hadn't said anything but as he read through the contact, he could see that she had negotiated a seven hundred dollar discount on the rent.

Still, as nice as this place was, he had work to do, so he and Diggle headed back to the car and drove to the foundry.

As they entered, he could hear Felicity talking and wondered if Sara or Roy were already here.

"Okay, I'll talk to you soon. Bye Barry."

Barry? He made his way over to her.

"Is Barry awake?" he asked, wondering why the thought made him feel as if he had been struck in the solar plexus.

Felicity looked up from her laptop. "No, no change."

"But you were talking to him?" he frowned.

"Webcam." She explained. "I left a laptop there. One of the nurses opens it when I text her and loads the webcam chat. Then I read him a few articles from Scientific Showcase, or something I printed off the internet."

"You read him articles?" he sounded amused.

"Yeah, I figure he likes science and if he can hear me, at least he'll have a little bit of a head start when he wakes up. What should I read him, Twilight?"

"From what I hear, that might deepen his coma." Oliver teased.

"They're not that bad," Felicity defended.

"You've read them?"

Felicity shrugged. "I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. And I'm a really quick reader, so it only took me a week to finish all four books. And sure, they have their faults, but they're not as bad as some people make out."

"You constantly surprise me," he told her with affection.

Felicity seemed unsure how to reply to that. "Sometimes, I surprise myself."

"So," Diggle said as he approached. "What's on the plan for this evening?"

"Is Sara coming?" Felicity asked. Oliver noticed the slight catch in her voice and how she kept her eyes glued to her screens but he didn't think a lot of it.

"No, she's reconnecting with her family, for a few days at least but speaking of Sara, can you check what vacancies we have at QC?"

"She's… coming to work at QC," Felicity realised. Of course she was, she should have thought if it earlier.

"I don't know yet but I told her we have a job if she wants one.

"What field?" Felicity asked.

"Not sure, I haven't asked her yet, I don't want to rush her. She doesn't have a degree, obviously, and I have no idea what she'd be interested in."

"Given her skill set, security springs to mind," Diggle offered.

"That might raise some eyebrows," Oliver countered. "Besides, if she's going to work with us, she can't be seen to too good a fighter, or people will start asking questions and putting two and two together. If you could just get a list of vacancies, I'll give it to her and let her decide what area she would rather work in."

So the unskilled assassin gets to choose her job, while the highly skilled I.T. worker with a doctorate, has to be a secretary.

'_Evening job, it's the evening, job that counts,'_ she told herself, repeating it over and over.

"Felicity?"

She didn't look up at him until his hand landed on her shoulder. "What?"

"You're mumbling, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she smiled, then turned back to her screens.

She was interrupted a moment later when her phone rang. "It's Lance," she said after glancing at the screen.

She passed the phone to Oliver and watched as he spoke, eager to hear what would be keeping them busy this evening.

"Hello detective."

"_Ah, yeah, actually… its Ms Smoak I wanted to talk to." _

Oliver frowned and handed the phone back to Felicity, who looked at it as though it may bite her.

"What?" she hissed.

"He wants to talk to you," he whispered.

"Me? Why?"

"Ask him and find out," Oliver suggested.

Reluctantly, Felicity took the phone.

"Detective Lance?"

"Ms Smoak, I'm sorry to bother you, but I know that you know the truth about my daughter through your work with the Arrow. Have you told your boss yet?"

"Told my boss?"

"That Sara isn't dead, that she didn't die on his boat."

"No, I haven't."

"Then do you know where he is? I think it's time he knew the truth, don't you?"

"I do, but why are you telling me this?"

"Because I've called his office and his house and no one knows where he is. I don't have his cell number and Laurel won't give it to me, so you're my only link to him right now."

"Yeah, he actually moved today. Um, I have his new address around here somewhere, or do you want his phone number?"

"I think maybe the address, this is the sort of thing that's better done in person."

"Okay, it might take me a moment to find it, so can I call you back?"

"Sure, text it to me."

"Will do, Detective."

Felicity hung up and relayed the call to Oliver, who nodded his understanding.

"There's no telling how long this will take, so take the night off. Go home, get some rest."

"I will," she assured him. "I just have a few things to check on first."

Oliver turned to Diggle. "You too, go be with Lyla."

Diggle didn't argue. "I'll drop you off on my way."

"Thanks."

Felicity listened to them talk as they headed out and couldn't help her thoughts from wondering what the reunion would be like. Once Oliver officially knew that Sara was alive, they could go public with their relationship.

She couldn't even begin to imagine how Laurel would react to that news and she wasn't at all looking forward to the fallout. As such, it didn't surprise her when nothing was mentioned over the coming days about their relationship. If she was them, she would probably keep everything on the down low too, not wanting to upset Laurel any more and risk damaging her relationship with Sara beyond redemption.

She was also glad that Sara stayed away from the Arrow cave. Oliver explained that she would join them but she just needed some time with her family first.

That was good, because Felicity needed time too.

* * *

Felicity was feeling quite happy as she headed to her local coffee shop; last night they had taken down an arms dealer, before that, they'd stopped a serial rapist, Roy was doing fairly well with controlling his anger (which is to say he hadn't killed anyone yet) and Oliver and Sara had been very discreet (which is to say, she'd seen hide nor hair of Sara since she'd caught them going at it). All in all, not a bad weeks work.

Felicity still had an uneasy feeling about the whole Mirakuru situation, for example, if Officer Daily had been behind the plot, where had he got the resources to make the serum? Why was he making it? And why would he steal the file on Sebastian Blood's father's murder? She hadn't voiced those concerns to Oliver yet, and wouldn't until she had proof, but she was still looking for information on the side, in the hopes that her fears would be proven either true or better still, untrue.

She was also doing pretty well playing the role of sidekick-Felicity and in fact, it had made life a little easier, as she wasn't as inclined to go off on rambling tangents.

The constant pretending was starting to become a little wearing however, so she intended to enjoy her Saturday off. She had brought her tablet, which was loaded with the latest articles from various science and technology sites, and would sit quietly for a couple of hours, indulging her loves for technology, cake and coffee. Bliss.

Between their two jobs, they didn't get an awful lot of free time but they tried to have one day, or at least one evening, off a week. On the whole, Felicity didn't mind the hours. When Oliver asked her to be his secretary and she told him that she had worked very hard to get where she was, she hadn't been lying; she loved her work and could often be found there into the evenings, puzzling over bugs in the system.

She still didn't like her day job but she had to admit that now she wasn't focusing on the companies' IT issues, she had more time and dedication for her night job, which was the important one.

She had written at least five different programs that would probably be worth a small fortune to businesses or law enforcement, but that technology was too important to ever sell; anything that gave Oliver the upper hand, even if it was just a very good data mining program, was priceless to her.

Now if only she could write a program that would stop him being shot, stabbed and hit, all her problems would be solved.

She pushed her way into the coffee shop and paused as she inhaled the aromas; coffee, vanilla and freshly baked cakes… were there any nicer smells in the world? She thought not, except maybe the aftershave Oliver wore, that was also one of the nicest smells.

She placed her order at the counter then turned away to find a table.

"Miss Smoak?"

She looked up to see a handsome brunette man looking at her.

"It's James Bond." She said, then almost immediately realised that she had said that out loud and cringed. "You're in the papers a lot and usually wearing a tuxedo and James Bond wears a lot of tuxedos so when I see you, I now think, 'Oh look, it's James Bond again'."

He was smiling as she rambled, much like Oliver often seemed to enjoy her tangents, but that did little to ease her shame.

"I'm sorry, Mr Wayne."

"It's quite all right. Will you join me?" He gestured to the chair opposite and after a brief hesitation, Felicity sat down.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"No small talk?" he replied.

"We can make meaningless small talk for the requisite amount of time if you like, or I can just ramble, which might be easier, certainly on you, or we could get to the point and save us both a lot of time."

"I like people who are direct," he assured her. "But surely you can guess why I'm here?"

"If I'm right, you're going to be disappointed, Mr Wayne."

"Please, call me Bruce."

"You're still going to be disappointed, Bruce."

He smiled and shook his head, as if unable to figure something out. "You can't be happy in your current position?"

"Why not?"

"Because you graduated top of your class at MIT and got your PhD before you were 22; because you solved the Repack Problem as a freshman, won the Adamson Award for your thesis, and because the data encryption program you wrote three years ago, still surpasses anything being brought to the market today. Look me in the eye and tell me that you're happy being a glorified secretary."

Felicity couldn't deny his words, she hated her day job, but he didn't know about the work it enabled her to do in the off hours. She was certain that at least two of the programs she had written specifically for Team Arrow, would revolutionise computer science but they could never know, because Oliver's need was greater than the rest of the world, and greater than her own need for recognition.

"It's not ideal, but my job has other rewards," she answered.

"So it's true, you are dating Oliver Queen?"

She blushed as he realised how he had taken her words. She and Oliver had never discussed the rumours that flew around Queen Consolidated but she assumed he was aware of them. She just didn't realise that they might have spread outside the company, let alone all the way to Gotham City.

"No, that isn't what I meant. Working for Oliver, I mean, Mr Queen…" How did she convince him that she was happy, without revealing that she spent her nights moonlighting for the local vigilante?

"I can give you a position and a wage commensurate to your talents, Miss Smoak, just name your terms."

"Call me Felicity," she had to say that since he had said she could use his Christian name, but she didn't sound happy about it. "And I have no conditions because I'm happy where I am."

Bruce considered her for a long moment, sizing her up. "What does he have on you?"

"What?"

"Whatever it is, I can make sure it goes away."

"He's not blackmailing me! Just-"

She was interrupted when the waitress came over with her latte and slice of coffee cake, and waited until they were alone again before she resumed speaking.

"Look, I have a great deal of respect for Oliver, which is why I accepted this job and you might not believe it, but I'm not sleeping with him, I'm doing this because together, we can make a real difference to this city."

"Atone for his mother's sins?"

"Something like that," she agreed.

Suddenly he flashed her a million watt smile. "Well, you can't blame a guy for trying, can you?"

She just gave him an enigmatic smile, surprised that he had given up so easily, but relieved nonetheless.

"And you really aren't dating your boss?"

"I'm really not," she maintained eye contact, willing him to believe her.

"Good, then perhaps this visit might not be a total loss."

Felicity frowned at the statement.

"I arranged a few other business meetings while I'm in town and couldn't avoid being invited to a Gala in support of Mrs Queen's candidacy for mayor this evening. Perhaps you would like to accompany me?"

Felicity's jaw dropped. "What?"

"I'm asking you to be my date for the ball," he elaborated, seeming amused by her reaction.

"Why?"

"Why not? I don't have a date and you're a very pretty woman, plus you're intelligent and you're not frightened of or awed by my wealth and status, as many would be. You seem perfect."

"I can't." She was free tonight because Oliver was attending the gala, but she was definitely not Mrs Queen's favourite person right now and she had a feeling that accepting would not end well.

"You're going with Oliver?" he guessed.

"No, I'm not going at all. And Oliver is only putting an appearance in, so he's not why I'm staying away either."

"Then why not go with me? I promise you, my manners are impeccable."

The smile he was giving her, somewhere between a self-satisfied smirk and a promise, was hard to resist and although she fought it, she could feel her own lips trying to form a smile at the idea.

And really, why shouldn't she have a night out? She hadn't had a date in…well, far too long. Oliver was with Sara, Diggle had Lyla, and even their newest member, Roy had Thea, while her only romantic prospect in recent months, Barry, was still sleeping, so why shouldn't she have fun for once?

It wasn't like anything would come of it, Bruce Wayne lived in another city and had his own empire to run, so what harm could a night of dancing and nice food hurt?

Thankfully the ball was being thrown by a supporter of Mrs Queen, not the woman herself or Felicity would never have dared to show her face, not after Moira had threatened her the last time they met. She wasn't scared of her exactly, but she was well aware of how ruthless Mrs Queen could be in the pursuit of what she wanted.

"Okay," she finally agreed.

"Great, I'll pick you up at seven."

"I'll give you my address." She began to rummaging her purse but Bruce placed his hand on hers, stilling her. She looked up into his eyes, which were far too close for comfort, and suddenly felt rather light-headed by his proximity.

"My people did a thorough back ground check on you before we first approached you, so I know where you live."

"And that's how you knew I'd be here." Suddenly this encounter made a lot more sense.

"It is. Please don't be angry, if this was just a date, I wouldn't have committed such a gross invasion of privacy."

"I'm not angry, just unsettled."

Bruce smiled and leaned back, removing his hand from hers, which suddenly felt rather chilled now.

"I know that feeling," he said, and she could tell that he was being sincere. "My whole life has been lived under the microscope of the press."

She nodded.

"Anyway, here's my card," he fished a business card out of his wallet and handed it over. "My cell number is on the back."

She turned it over and sure enough, written in a large but elegant script, was his phone number.

"I know I'm intruding on your usual routine, so I'll leave you in peace to enjoy your cake and coffee. Until this evening, Felicity."

He stood up and offered her his hand. The frisson of attraction she felt as she placed her hand in his, made her smile.

"I'm looking forward to it," she assured him.

Bruce bent forward and raised her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles, which made her blush.

"Goodbye."

And then he was gone, while she sat there a little stupefied for a few moments. He had kissed her hand. He had kissed her hand and invited her on a date. She was going on a date with Bruce Wayne! Bruce Wayne had very soft lips, but rather calloused hands, which was odd for a billionaire but she was more interested in how his lips felt than his hands.

She knew she was sitting there with a big, goofy smile on her lips, but she couldn't help it.

Maybe it wouldn't last, maybe it would just be one night but damn, she could already tell that it was going to be a night to remember.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** I literally (not figuratively) I literally cannot believe how popular chapter one has been! Thank you all for your kind comments. Sorry for not replying personally but it would take forever and I'm sure you'd much rather I was working on the story! I do have a few FAQs that I can respond to without spoiling the story though.

Choosing Matt Bomer as Batman on the cover. I didn't choose an existing Batman because I wanted a new Batman for this story. I didn't choose Ben Afflek because he's a little old to be starting out in the superhero business. Matt Bomer is pretty close to Stephen Amell in age, has the right look/colouring and I haven't seen a lot of his work, so he was a blank slate that I could project my version of the character on to (plus he looks pretty good in a suit, which never hurts). If you prefer to think of Batman as anyone else, feel free.

Typos- I'm dyslexic so just telling me there are typos is like telling me there's chocolate. "Where!" When someone is specific, this is a big help to me and of course, I will make corrections (Thank you quisinart4!).

Oliver/Felicity or Bruce/Felicity… well that would be telling, your opinions seem to be divided about 50/50. I will say that there's a reason **both** are listed under pairings in Ch1. In all honesty though, I have about 20,000 words right now and it could go either way. Although my intent was for an Olicity ending, once I start a story, I try not to impose my will on the characters. They write themselves, I just dictate it for them and if I try to keep things how I want them, it stilts the story and I end up blocked. I used to feel insane saying that but now I'm meeting other professional authors who tell me the same thing… well, I still feel crazy, I'm just more willing to own up to it! I can say that things between Oliver and Felicity will get worse before they get better.

Yes, Bruce **is** desperate to employ her. Anyone familiar with him knows how much he needs his technology and he wants the best. He's kicking himself that he wasn't around to hire her straight from college.

Yes, the title is a nod to Star Wars, not because SW has any relevance to this story, but it's very fitting for a story with supervillain organisation called HIVE.

Yes, the story will be finished. I don't start to publish until I know that there's enough life in the story to finish it.

**Chapter Two**

As seven o'clock approached, Felicity wondered what she should do, wait up here for Bruce, or go down and wait in the lobby? He probably wouldn't want the inconvenience of coming inside for her. She grabbed her clutch and shawl, then headed out but before she could open her apartment door, someone knocked, which made her jump slightly. She took a calming breath, then opened it.

"You're early," she said without thinking.

"I hope I haven't inconvenienced you?"

"No, not at all. I was going to wait for you in the lobby."

"That doesn't sound very romantic." He smiled and took the shawl from her, opening it and holding it up for her.

She turned her back and he placed it around her, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders.

"You look lovely," he told her, his breath fanning her ear, letting her know exactly how close he was.

"Thank you." If her voice quavered a little, it was his fault, she reasoned. The man had to know the effect he had on women.

He stepped back and she turned to face him. His gaze wandered up her figure and from the expression he wore, he didn't find anything wanting. He held his elbow out.

"Shall we go?"

Felicity nodded, clutching his elbow and pulling the door closed behind her.

She was wearing a red dress with a beaded, strapless bodice (which tugged her waist in and pushed her breasts out) with a long, full skirt. She had swept her curls up onto the crown of her head, leaving a few loose to frame her face, and swapped her glasses for contacts. She may not be worth a million dollars, but she certainly thought that she looked like a million dollars.

"Relax," Bruce said as they entered the lift.

"Sorry." She smiled up at him.

"It's just a ball."

"I know, that isn't what has me nervous."

"You're worried about Oliver?"

"More like his Mom, actually, she doesn't like me."

Bruce tilted his head to the side as he considered that. "Why ever not?"

"Because I told Oliver something she didn't want me to… and I might have told her to her face, that I didn't trust her."

"Do the Queens have a lot of secrets?"

She realised that she was on the verge of giving too much away.

"Queens, as in plural, I don't think so but Mrs Queen… I get the feeling that the secrets she knows would put the NSA to shame."

Bruce laughed. "Yes, her trial made headlines around the globe, so I can't say I'm surprised that you feel that way. I wouldn't trust her either."

The elevator doors opened and they made quite a striking couple as they walked across the lobby.

"Why are you going to a gala for her if you don't trust her?" Felicity asked.

"My opinion of her doesn't matter one way or the other, I can't vote for Starling City's Mayor, but I do know Mr Reynolds, who is hosting the Gala, and my company can't afford to upset such a large and respected financial institution as his."

Felicity didn't question it, businessmen seemed to spend a lot of time with people they didn't particularly care for, just because they couldn't risk offending them.

"Don't worry, its bad form to talk too much business at these things," Bruce assured her. He waved the chauffeur away and opened the car door for her.

"Thank you." She slipped into the car and slid across the seat, so he could sit beside her.

"You look as nervous as a cat at a dog show."

Felicity smiled at the image of that. "I'm sorry, it's just been ages since I went on a date."

"Really?"

"A formal date, yeah." Hunting jewel thieves and counting cards didn't count. She supposed dancing with Barry might be considered a date, except in the end, she hadn't been the one to invite him, Oliver had.

"Tell me about your business," she said.

"Really, you want me to talk shop?"

"I might be a computer geek, but I'm interested in a lot of different things. Besides, if I can wheedle some corporate secrets out of you, I might get a pay raise."

He laughed and reached out to take her hand. "Well, mostly it's your standard, run of the mill conglomerate. We have…"

As he spoke, his thumb moved softly over the back of her hand, soothing her somewhat frayed nerves.

There wasn't really any one reason for her to feel as nervous as she did, but there were a lot of things about tonight that she couldn't predict. Would Moira cause a scene and throw her out? Would Oliver be okay with this, or be upset (and honestly, she didn't know which was worse)? Would she babble in front of Bruce's friends and show him up? Would Bruce invite her back to his suite? He did have a reputation as a playboy, after all. And if he did, how would she answer?

You knew you were in a bad way when you couldn't even foresee your own behaviour.

There was just so much that she didn't know and couldn't predict, and that was what made her feel so anxious.

* * *

Oliver still felt odd in his new apartment, as if he were simply staying with a friend, rather than living on his own. It hadn't occurred to him to get his own place before this week, not even to help hide his vigilante activities.

He knew it wouldn't take long to feel at home, Felicity had chosen well, he just hadn't had the time to make himself at home yet. Pretty much, he only came home to sleep and although his housekeeper kept his refrigerator stocked, he'd made himself a grand total of two sandwiches.

He really wasn't looking forward to the ball this evening, held by one of the major shareholders in Starling National Bank, but he had to put in an appearance because Thea was going to be there.

A part of him felt that he should tell his sister the truth about her father, that she more than anyone deserved to know the truth, but how could he? Not only had she adored their father, Robert, her biological father, Merlyn, had been the one responsible for his death. Now she seemed to have grown closer to their mother but if she ever learned the truth, he was certain that she would never speak to Moira again. As much as he hated the lies, he couldn't be the one to take their mother away from her.

He gave his reflection a final perusal in the mirror, then turned to leave.

* * *

Felicity and Bruce walked into the ballroom of The Caledonian Hotel to, thankfully, little fanfare. A waiter was ready with a tray of champagne glasses and beside him, another waiter had a tray of orange juice.

Felicity opted for the champagne, as did Bruce, but Felicity finished her glass in three long sips as they moved deeper into the ballroom.

"Feel better?" Bruce asked, clearly amused.

"Much." She grinned.

"I didn't know I'd invited a lush." His tone was teasing, which made Felicity smile. "Here." He handed her his glass, which had only dropped a sip in level.

She looked at him quizzically.

"Everyone knows it takes two glasses of champagne to relax," he explained.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr Wayne?"

"Damn it, you've seen through my cunning plan."

She looked into the contents of his glass then looked up at him.

"Two?" she questioned.

"Two," he confirmed.

"Are you sure that's not two for men?"

"I've estimated your weight, judging by your height and size, knocking off three inches for your heels, of course and allowing for the fact you probably haven't eaten for a few hours. Trust me, two will give you a pleasant buzz without intoxicating you. Switch to orange juice or water for the next half an hour though, before drinking again."

Felicity looked impressed.

"What?" he asked. "You aren't going to ask what I estimated your weight to be, are you?"

"No," she assured him, laughing. "I'm just glad to see that you're more than just a pretty face."

He returned her smile and pointed to her glass, which she dutifully finished quickly.

"I'll get us some fresh drinks from the bar," he assured her, before disappearing into the crowd.

There were around two hundred guests present, and an orchestra with a singer playing on the stage, although no one was dancing yet. Felicity looked around but when Mrs Queen caught her eye a moment later, she wished that she had hidden, or at least stayed on the side-lines.

She plastered a smile on her face as Moira said goodbye to the people she was speaking to and made her way over to Felicity.

"Good evening, Mrs Queen," she said as sweetly as she could.

"I wasn't aware that my son was working at this event."

Felicity bristled at the cattiness in her tone, as if Felicity wasn't worthy of an invitation. It gave her pleasure to answer. "He's not, I didn't come with Oliver."

"Oh?"

Before Felicity could explain Bruce approached from behind Mrs Queen, with two highball glasses filled with ice and something effervescent.

"Felicity." He held one glass out for her. "Your vodka and lemonade."

"Thank you, Bruce." She took a small sip through the straw and discovered that it was in fact carbonated water. She wondered if his was non-alcoholic too. Maybe he was an alcoholic and that was why he didn't drink his champagne.

"Bruce, this is Mrs Queen, Oliver's mother." She looked to Moira. "But then, I'm sure you've met Bruce Wayne before."

"Actually, I haven't had the pleasure." Moira held her hand out and Bruce shook it.

"The pleasure is all mine," Bruce assured her.

"I do hope you aren't trying to steal Queen Consolidated company secrets?" It was said in a teasing tone but the implication was clear, no one would invite Felicity out unless it was for the purpose of corporate espionage.

"Actually, I've been trying to steal Oliver's EA for a while now, her reputation precedes her, but she keeps turning me down."

"Well, it's always nice to know you have options, in case the worst should happen," Moira said pointedly to Felicity.

Bruce pretended not to have understood the implication that she might be fired. "I thought QC was doing well with Oliver at the helm?"

"Oh, it is." Moira smiled at him. "But you never know what may happen in the future."

"Of course, maniacs with earthquake machines don't usually announce their plans on the evening news."

Moira's smile remained in place but her eyes hardened. She might be able to intimidate Felicity under normal circumstances but with Bruce as her champion, she knew this was a lost cause.

"Enjoy your evening," she said pleasantly enough, and turned away.

"Wow," Bruce said.

"What?" Felicity looked up at him.

"I thought you were exaggerating or might have imagined it, but she really doesn't like you, does she?"

"People with dirty laundry usually don't like others going through it."

"Very true," he agreed.

Felicity raised her drink. "Are you going virgin too?" she asked.

"I am," he admitted. "I have nothing against drinking but I prefer to keep a clear head most of the time."

"Believe it or not, me too, usually. Although red wine is my vice of choice."

"You have good taste," Bruce assured her. "Now, I'm sure we can find _someone_ pleasant at this party, so let's mingle."

With one confrontation was out of the way and the alcohol bolstering her confidence, Felicity felt better now, and it didn't hurt that she could feel his hand on the small of her back as he guided her through the crowd.

* * *

Oliver hadn't bothered with a date, it seemed like more trouble that it was worth, especially considering that he wouldn't be staying for long.

When he was finished, he intended to stop by Detective Lance's house and see how Laurel was getting on. He'd have to ask about Sara too, but he already knew how she was doing (fine, although her family was smothering her a little, and the transition to a domestic lifestyle was proving harder than she had expected).

Sara was itching to get out and help him fight crime, but her parents didn't seem inclined to let her out of their sight for more than an hour or two at a time.

Laurel had been checked into rehab but although she had only tried to escape once, she wasn't ready to face her problems and sat sullenly through all the therapy sessions. Quentin seemed to understand her hostility and felt that they should stay optimistic, but Sara and Dinah were finding it harder to remain upbeat.

Oliver felt that it was too soon for either optimism or cynicism, she hadn't even been in rehab for a full week yet.

He was interrupted from his thoughts as his mother spotted his entrance and made a beeline for him.

"Oliver, Darling." Her words were warm but her tone was cool, as were his actions when he kissed the air beside her cheek.

"Mother, how are things going?"

"Very well, I'm meeting a lot of powerful people, almost all of whom have offered their support either to me, or to my campaign to help the Glades."

"That's good." He didn't see why they couldn't help Sebastian, but he knew that wealthy people didn't like a poor boy made good. They didn't trust the poor, not even those who had worked their way out of poverty. He didn't say such things though; now was neither the time nor the place.

Moira took his arm and led him deeper into the ballroom.

"Your secretary is here."

"She is? Is she looking for me?" He began to look around for her blonde ponytail.

"No, it seems she has landed herself a billionaire of her very own."

Oliver looked at his mother in confusion.

"She's Bruce Wayne's date," Moira explained.

"His date?" _'When did that happen?'_

"Yes. It seems corporate espionage isn't what it once was, and is now conducted over vodka and dancing."

Oliver followed his mother's gaze to the dance floor, where Felicity was swaying with Bruce, laughing at something he had said.

He was surprised when he heard the glass he was holding shatter and looked down to see his hand covered in blood.

"Oh! Oliver!"

His mother handed him a serviette and dragged him to the bar, where he placed the remains of the glass on the bar and accepted the cloth napkin the bartender handed him, and used it to staunch the bleeding. Thankfully, the cut wasn't bad, his callouses probably having saved him from serious injury.

When he turned to his mother, she seemed rather smug.

"You can't trust that girl, Oliver, who knows what secrets she's telling him."

The bleeding had slowed, so Oliver wrapped his handkerchief around his hand as it was more discrete than the napkin, and glared at his mother.

"Unlike you, I trust her implicitly. You need to be more careful who you insult."

"Oliver, she's clearly in love with you, any fool can see that, and she's doing this to make you jealous. When it doesn't work, what do you think she might do next?"

"Nothing," Oliver answered. "Unlike you, she doesn't scheme in order to get other people to dance to her tune. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Oliver made his way around the edge of the dance floor, waiting for the song to end and Felicity to walk off the floor. He didn't know why this upset him, she was a free agent and he hadn't been lying, he did trust her. So why was her laughing with Bruce Wayne such a big deal?

'_Because Bruce is a real threat.'_

And there it was. Barry, for all his brains, was basically just a kid. Bruce however, was a billionaire, philanthropist and an inventor. He didn't wear green and beat the crap out of bad guys, but he was making a difference in the world, leaving it a better place thanks to his charity work. He was just the type of man who could replace him in Felicity's heart.

He knew that he shouldn't care too much about Felicity, he knew that love could be a source of evil as well as good, and he knew that he couldn't stand to lose anyone else he cared about. That hadn't stopped his rather ill thought out tryst with Sara but Sara was different; Sara was like him, already broken beyond repair. No matter what happened with her, he could never hurt her to the same degree that he could hurt Felicity.

That didn't mean that dating Sara was a wise move, it wasn't, for a hundred and one different reasons.

He imagined having slept with Felicity, then having to tell her it had been a mistake.

She would accept it. She might fight the point but she would accept it eventually. She might not even blame him, she had proven to have a far greater capacity for forgiveness that he possessed. The hurt in her eyes though, that would haunt him, and he already had too many ghosts.

As he recognised the final few bars of the song, he plastered a smile on his face, wondering, _'How do you greet the man who is dancing with the woman you love?' _

Before he could ponder his use of the word 'love', he realised that Felicity hadnoticed him first and he saw her expression fall for a moment, before she smiled and headed straight for him.

"Oliver." Her expression was a mixture of remorse and defiance. "Have you met Bruce?"

"I have." He offered his uninjured right hand but as they shook, he saw Bruce take note of his injured hand but for whatever reason, he chose not to comment. "How are you?"

"Good, Mr Queen, thank you."

"What brings you to Starling City?"

"I came to steal your Executive Assistant. I've been trying for months without success, so I thought a personal visit was in order."

Oliver knew that Bruce was watching him, to gauge his reaction, he just didn't understand why. Felicity quickly looked away, a blush turning her cheeks red.

"I can see why you might want to, she's amazing but you should know, I'll fight you for her."

Felicity looked at him, surprised by his answer. Bruce's expression gave nothing away.

"Well, if a date is the best I can hope for, it will be more than enough." His phone buzzed and Bruce took it out of his pocket, then looked to Felicity. "I'm sorry, this is my butler, and he wouldn't call unless it was important. Do you mind?"

"Not as all," she smiled. Right now, she didn't care which man left, just so long as one of them did, so that she could cease to feel like a bone they were fighting over.

They both watched as Bruce headed out of the main doors in the ballroom.

"Do you want to get some air?" Oliver asked, nodding to the doors which lined one side of the room, that led to the balcony.

Felicity nodded and they made their way out there.

The ballroom was on the first floor, so there wasn't an expansive view, but the street below them looked lovely, bathed in lamp light, and this was a historic section of the city, so the buildings around there were all old and classical.

There was a slight chill in the air but after the dance, Felicity welcomed it.

"So, you and Bruce; how'd that happen?"

Felicity shrugged as she stood against the railings. "He asked, I didn't see the harm. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I went on a real date? I just wanted to get dressed up and for once, not get shot at or kidnapped or something."

Oliver came to stand beside her, perhaps standing a little closer than was strictly proper.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She turned to him, puzzled by the question. "I'm fine, why?"

"You've been different lately, quieter, more focused."

"Less rambling," she turned away again.

"Less you," he said.

She was afraid to turn to look at him, wary that he'd have that look in his eyes, the look that showed how much he cared, the look that gave her hope.

"From my perspective, less rambling is a good thing."

"Not from mine."

She didn't reply.

"Is this because of something my Mom said to you? Because of what you told me? Do you think I'm upset with you?"

"No." She did turn to him then, and she was right, he did have 'that' look. She found it almost impossible to lie to him when he looked like this, and she was on the verge of admitting that she knew about him and Sara, when fate threw her a lifeline.

"I thought I saw you coming out here." Thea greeted Oliver with a hug and a kiss, then turned to Felicity and smiled. "And I thought I saw you dancing with Bruce Wayne?"

"I was," Felicity blushed to admit. "I'm his… date."

Thea's eyebrows rose but with pride rather than shock. "Well look at you, landing one of America's most eligible bachelors. You'll have to tell me your secret."

"There's no secret, and I haven't landed anything, it's one date."

"Um hum." Thea nodded but clearly wasn't buying it. "And how have you been, Big Brother, what's it like being an independent man about town."

Oliver smiled. "Weird."

"We miss you at home."

"You're never at home to miss me," he countered. "Speaking of, where is Roy?" He was taking care of the city with Diggle, but Thea didn't know that.

"He's just having a night with his friends." Thea explained, which was the excuse Roy had given her.

"You sound worried?" Oliver noted.

"A little," Thea said with a shrug. "His friends aren't the best characters, but I trust him. Besides, he feels uncomfortable enough at our house, he'd hate it here."

"Are you still worried about him?" Oliver asked.

"I think that's my cue to get a new drink," Felicity said, taking a step towards the door.

Oliver spoke up to stop her. "You don't have to-"

His words cut off when the power in the building went out. Oliver stepped towards the doors but Felicity's words stopped him.

"It's just us, all the surrounding buildings have power," Felicity said, her analytical mode taking over in a crisis. She had already retrieved her phone from her purse.

"Call-" Oliver looked to Thea then back to Felicity. "Call the police." he said, although the look he gave her said 'call Diggle'.

"Do you have your phone?" Felicity asked. He didn't have his Bluetooth ear piece but he did have the phone.

"Call me when you know anything." He turned to his sister. "Come on." He grabbed Thea and dragged her after him, to the other end of the balcony.

"Ollie! What are you doing, let me go!"

"Stay here, I'm going to find mom and tell her to come here and stay with you. Don't move, got it?"

"Yeah." She nodded and Oliver dashed inside. A lot of the guests seemed to be making their way out to the balcony. Thankfully, no one seemed to be panicking and most guests had thought to use the light on their phone screens, which was helping. He quickly found his mother, thanking whoever it was for making her blonde and easier to spot in very low light. He quickly told her where Thea was and dashed further into the building.

His phone rang and he reached the door to the ballroom.

"Felicity?"

"I've patched Dig in too," she said, keeping her voice low. He could also hear a lot of background chatter, and guessed that the balcony was now getting too crowded for her to speak freely.

"What's going on?" Oliver asked.

"Not sure," Diggle said. "There's a lot coming over the police computers but little of it is helpful. I can tell you that there is already a police presence at the hotel, guarding one of the penthouse suits."

Oliver headed for the stairwell and began to climb. "Why?"

"Not sure and without Felicity here, I can't even find out who's paying for that hotel room."

"With my tablet, I might be able to help but I didn't bring it… Gimme a minute."

Oliver continued climbing until he reached the eighth floor. As he ascended, he heard what sounded like shots from above, then a louder bang, followed by cries and screams, both from above and below.

"Thank god this is an old hotel and not a skyscraper."

"Okay, I'm on the computer, I slipped into one of the offices," Felicity explained. "It's a laptop so it has battery power and is hooked into an Ethernet cable, which still seems to be working.

If he didn't need to know who the police were guarding, he would have cursed her for not staying put; people were stampeding, she could have been crushed.

"Just… give… me… I'm in, okay, the penthouse suits are rented to Bruce Wayne, Alan Schafer and… the FBI! The fourth one is listed as vacant."

"That's got to be the room." Oliver said, pausing by the door to the penthouse floor.

"There's no name here, so I can't tell you who's staying in there."

Oliver had a feeling that he would be finding out very soon. He couldn't hear anything dangerous through the door and risked opening it.

The hallway was a mess, with broken furniture, bullet holes in the walls and wood panelling and one broken down door. The air was also filled with dust and an acrid smell; so there had been an explosion up here, but probably not a big one. Perhaps a hand grenade size.

Aware that he was dressed as Oliver Queen, not the Arrow, he made his way into the hallway and along to the broken door. Keeping his body shielded, he looked around the door frame and into the room, unwilling to enter until he knew the situation he might be walking into.

"Hello, does anyone need help?"

"_The police are on the scene, ambulances too,"_ Felicity told him over the phone line.

"Hello!" he called again. The air was filled with smoke and dust in here, so he couldn't make much out. "Can anyone hear me?"

He heard something that sounded like a voice and made his way over to it. He found himself kneeling over a police officer. He was stunned but Oliver couldn't see any obvious injuries.

"It was the bat."

"A bat? Someone hit you wilt a baseball bat?"

The officer coughed. "No, the vigilante from Gotham, guy-" he began coughing again.

"The police and emergency services are here, they'll be with you any moment," Oliver tried to reassure him.

"My partner went into the bedroom, with the perp."

"Who was the perp? Oliver asked.

"Need to know. Apparently-" he coughed. "We didn't need to know."

"I'll check on your partner."

Oliver ran into the bedroom and saw total devastation. The windows along one wall were completely gone, the walls and furniture blackened with soot and two bodies were lying on the floor, by the bed. Oliver checked on them, they were both breathing but unconscious.

He ran to the window and saw a zip line running to another building, which must have been how the Bat escaped.

Oliver heard voices calling and went back to one of the fallen men.

"In here!" he called. "We need help!"

Police came in, followed by paramedics.

"What happened?" an officer asked as he pulled Oliver back so the paramedics could work.

"I found them like this."

"Did you see what happened?"

"No."

"What were you doing up here?"

How did he explain that?

"I was at the party downstairs."

"And how did you get up here?"

His phone vibrated and he could see that Felicity had ended their call but had texted him. The message on screen said, _'Did you find Bruce?! What's going on?'_

'_God bless Felicity,'_ he thought.

He showed the officer the message. "My friend came with Bruce Wayne. He ducked out earlier to take a call and she was worried when she couldn't find him. I said I'd check on him but I had no idea I'd find this up here."

It sounded perfectly plausible.

"Okay, Sir, we're going to need to take a statement from you," He led Oliver out into the corridor, away from the bodies and the investigation. "Wait here until one of the detectives can speak with you."

"Will you check the other penthouses? I can't remember which room she said he was in, but it's one of the penthouse suites." He looked around him. "I hope it wasn't this one."

"We'll check them," the officer assured him.

Oliver took a deep breath and prepared to wait. This right here, was why he worked outside the law, because there was too goddamn much waiting around with the police.

* * *

As soon as power was restored, Felicity slipped out of the office and headed back to the ballroom. Police were everywhere but so were party guests, so she didn't think she stood out. She found Thea and Moira out on the balcony and stayed with them until Roy and Diggle arrived.

Roy made it to them first, calling Thea's name and hugging her tightly once he realised she was safe. Now that the commotion seemed to be over, Felicity stepped inside to speak to Diggle.

"What's happening?" he asked.

"Not much. The police found Oliver upstairs so he's giving a statement. Other than that, you probably know more than I do."

Diggle nodded and directed her to the side of the ballroom.

"Word is, the Gotham City Vigilante did this."

"He killed or kidnapped someone in federal custody?" Felicity had heard enough to know that only three people had been found in the hotel room. There had been two cops and there were likely to be two federal agents there too, since all branches of law enforcement seemed to work with a partner, which meant that whoever they were guarding, and possibly an agent or one of the cops was missing as well.

"Look like it."

"Could Helena Bertinelli have a new partner, this Bat? She's tried to kill her father while he was in federal custody before."

"Could be, but it's too soon to be jumping to conclusions," Diggle cautioned.

"Felicity! There you are, thank God."

She turned to see Bruce striding towards her.

"I've been looking everywhere for you, I was worried you'd been hurt in the… whatever that was."

"I'm fine," she smiled at him, but it turned to a frown as she noticed a little bit of blood by his hairline. "You're hurt." She reached out to him but he pulled back before she could touch his head.

"I was still on my call when the lights went out, I tried to make my way back here and someone opened the door just as I got to it." He rubbed his head.

"You should let the paramedics check you out."

She stepped away to find one but Bruce took a hold of her arm. "I'm fine, honestly. My butler, Alfred, is up in my suite, he'll take good care of me."

"I thought he was the one who called you?"

"He did, I had an urgent call and he was passing on the message. And I should probably see about returning it soon. Come on, I'll call a car to drive you home."

"I'll see she gets home," Diggle assured him.

Bruce looked a little surprised to realise he was with Felicity, and gave him along, evaluating look.

"He's Oliver's body guard," Felicity explained.

"Where is Oliver?"

"I asked him to find you. Speaking of, I doubt they'll let you back into your suite for a while, this happened up there, apparently."

"Then I really should check on Alfred. You'll make sure she's okay?" Bruce asked Diggle.

"I will."

Bruce turned back to Felicity. "I'm sorry the night ended this way. Perhaps we can reschedule."

"Sure," she said, not really believing that they would. He lived in another city and considering that he had given the impression that he wouldn't be here very long, she was sure that he was just being polite.

They remained in the ballroom, although they found a couple of chairs to sit on while they waited for Oliver.

He was finally let go about an hour later.

"Any clues?" Felicity asked him.

"It was Gotham City's vigilante."

"So it's true, the Bat is here?"

"Looks like it."

"Starling City is becoming a mecca for vigilantes," Diggle noted.

Oliver didn't look happy about that. "There's nothing more we can do here tonight, we should go."

They headed out together. Roy had already taken Thea and Moira home.

Oliver slowed slightly as they walked to the car and put his hand on Felicity's arm to still her for a moment.

"I'm sorry you got dressed up, only for it to end in disaster again."

She had forgotten that she had even said that, and was touched that he had remembered.

"Thanks."

She would probably lament how the night had ended in the not too distant future but for now, she was with her two favourite men and they were all alive and well. That was enough to make this a happy ending in her book.

* * *

"And Mr Aitkinson?" Alfred asked as he hung Brice Wayne's dinner jacket up.

"Is locked in the boiler-room of the hotel. Handcuffed to a fitting. The FBI agent will wake up when the drugs wear off and summon help."

"Was it really necessary to kidnap a federal agent?"

Bruce sat in the bed and removed his shoes and socks.

"He wasn't going to talk unless he believed his life was in danger, so I had to take the agent so I could make it look like I'd killed him."

"And what did Mr Aitkinson tell you?"

"Unfortunately, very little. He may be well connected in the mafia but he didn't know much about HIVE."

"Did he give you anything useful?"

"Maybe, I'm not sure yet."

Alfred continued to tidy up after his charge, knowing that he would elaborate when he was ready.

"He said Merlyn was involved with them."

"Malcolm Merlyn?"

"That's the only Merlyn I know."

"Not to sound pessimistic, Master Wayne, but he's dead."

"True, and his company has been cut up and sold off. His partner however, Moira Queen, is alive and her company is very much intact. Aitkinson also said that he had once collected a consignment from HIVE from a Queen Consolidated warehouse in Starling."

"So you have a new lead to follow then."

"It's not much," Bruce admitted.

"Then, was your companion at least pleasurable company?" Alfred asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"It would be nice if something good came out of this evening, Sir."

Bruce smiled. "She was lovely, Alfred. I might even call her adorable, but she's also in love with another man."

"That is a shame. So I take it you won't be seeing her again?"

"Actually, I plan on seeing her tomorrow."

"But you just said-"

"I know, but she man she loves is either too foolish to realise it, or too superficial to care, I'm not quite sure which but until he wakes up and makes a move, she is my best link to Queen Consolidated."

Alfred shook his head in consternation. "This is no way to treat a young lady, Master Wayne."

"So you keep telling me, Alfred."

"That's because I'm still hopeful that one day, it might sink in, Sir."

* * *

After a fruitless few hours at the Arrow cave, they were unable to discover anything meaningful about the Bat or the victim, and had finally called it a night in the early hours of the morning, so when Bruce called at 9am, Felicity was still in bed. She grabbed her phone from the night stand and brought it to her ear without thinking.

"I'm up, I'm on my way."

"Felicity?"

"You're not Oliver," she said, trying to remember why that voice sounded familiar.

"No, it's Bruce Wayne. You were expecting your boss?"

"No one else usually wakes me up at odd hours." She glanced at her clock, which read 9.02 AM. "And it's not even odd hours. Sorry."

"Not at all, I'm sorry I woke you. Are you all right?"

Her newly awoken brain was beginning to catch up to events. Of course he would think 9AM was late because as far as he knew, she had left the hotel before 10pm, which left plenty of time to be well rested. In an attempt to wake up, she swung her legs around so she was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I had trouble sleeping last night, that's all. Probably the adrenalin or something. How are you this morning?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

"And your head?"

"Just a scratch, I assure you."

"Good."

"The reason I'm calling is to ask you to lunch."

"I thought you were going back to Gotham?"

"Soon, I still have a couple of contacts I'd like to catch up with before I leave."

"Then shouldn't you be calling them?" she teased.

"They aren't as pretty as you."

Okay, so it was a line, and a cheesy line at that, but at least someone was flirting with her.

"Charmer. I do have to work today-"

"But it's Sunday."

"I know. No rest for the wicked, I guess, but I'm sure I can squeeze you in." Oliver might not like it but there was something about last night, something that was nagging at the back of her mind, only she couldn't for the life of her, figure out what it was.

Her instincts told her to meet Bruce however, and she had learned to trust her instincts. Perhaps he would jog a memory or a recollection about last night.

"What time shall I pick you up?" Bruce asked.

"How about I meet you somewhere,"

"All right. Can you recommend somewhere?"

"What are you after, fine dining or fast food?"

"How about something in the middle, nice food but no pretention."

"Do you like burgers?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Big Belly Burger then, I'll meet you there at 1."

She did like the food there but since Carly and Diggle had split up, she didn't get to go very often. Plus it was right on the edge of the glades, not far from Verdant.

"It's a date."

As she hung up, Felicity tried to ignore the fluttering that the word 'date' caused in her stomach. Two dates did not a relationship make, especially when the first one was interrupted.

She hadn't even finished brushing her teeth when Detective Lance called. She explained that she was at home but would try to contact the Arrow for him, then she called Oliver.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: To the anon who left me that lovely flame on chapter two, I just have one thing to say. "LOL! U MAD, BRO?"

To everyone else, thank you so much for your feedback.

No, there will not be one chapter a day. As much as I would like to, I can't write and proof 6,000 words a day! I will try to make update regularly though, hopefully every 2-3 days, depending on time and the cooperation of the muse.

**Chapter Three**

"So what did Lance say?" Diggle wanted to know.

They had reconvened in the Arrow cave to try and work out what happened the night before.

"He said that an FBI Agent and the witness being protected, were discovered in the hotel's basement this morning.

"No one checked there?" Diggle asked incredulously.

"They had no reason to," Oliver explained. "The zip line made it look like the Bat had gone to another rooftop, not down the side of the building, and if they were going to search the hotel, they'd need to search every room. There's over two hundred rooms in there, and that's not counting bathrooms, closets and offices; they just don't have the manpower for that kind of search."

"So what did the Bat want with those men?" Felicity asked.

"It seems he make it look like he had killed the FBI Agent, he was found covered in pigs blood. The guy they were protecting was a mob informant who had turned state's evidence."

"So this is mob related?"

"No, I don't think so. According to Lance, the Bat just kept asking about an organisation called HIVE."

"HIVE?" Diggle stood up.

"You know them?" Oliver asked.

"I know of them. Lawton said that they ordered the hit on my brother. What do you know about them?"

"Nothing," Oliver admitted.

"I'll see what I can dig up." Felicity offered, turning to her screens but keeping one ear on the conversation.

"So what did the Bat want to know about this organisation, specifically?" Diggle asked.

"I don't know. Apparently he kept asking questions about who was behind it."

"And who is behind it?"

"The mobster didn't know. What he did say, was that Merlyn was once a part of it."

"Malcolm Merlyn?" Felicity turned around to face them. "That can't be good."

"No."

"Could the League of Assassins be involved?" Diggle suggested.

"I doubt it, they already are a secret organisation, and according to Sara, they really weren't happy about Merlyn's Undertaking."

"Would your Mom know anything?" Diggle asked. "She and Merlyn were pretty tight."

Felicity thought that was a huge understatement, given Thea's newly discovered paternity.

"Even if she does, she won't tell me. We're not exactly on speaking terms right now."

"I might find something on the internet," Felicity said. "I take it we're also looking for information on the Bat?"

"Of course, I can't have him running around the city if I don't know his motives."

"From what I discovered last night, his motives seem good; he attacks bad people and tries not to kill."

"Tries?" Oliver questioned.

"There have been a few deaths but none directly at his hands."

"So who is he, what does he want?"

"I don't know. I'll set my data mining programs to look for information on HIVE or the Gotham vigilante and leave them running while I'm at lunch, plus, I still have a copy of Merlyn's computer data; I'll sweep that for any mentions of HIVE this afternoon."

"Lunch?"

"Yeah, I think Bruce wants to say sorry for the crappy way our date ended."

"You should be careful, Felicity, I think he could be dangerous."

"What makes you say that?"

"Little things, like the way he holds himself, the way he scans a room for exits."

"Hardly a definitive reason to think him dangerous though."

'_What about me?'_ he wanted to say, Instead he settled for, "What about Barry?"

"Barry's still sleeping, has been for almost two months and I don't know if he'll ever wake up. Even if he does, there's no saying he'll be the same man as before. Who knows how much damage that lightning did to his brain. I can't spend my life waiting on a 'what if' that might never happen."

She was right. That didn't mean that it didn't sting to watch her dating someone else though.

"I'll make it quick, I swear," she said when he hadn't replied.

"I think we can manage without you for a couple of hours, Felicity," Diggle said. "Have fun."

"Thanks," she grinned at him, then turned back to her computers.

"And what do we do in the meantime?" Oliver asked Diggle. If he was going to send their technical analyst away, he better have a good idea.

"I'll talk to Lyla, see what she knows."

"You haven't already?"

"Lyla thinks my obsession with Deadshot makes me unpredictable, so I didn't want to ask her about HIVE. This isn't about Lawton though, it's about this new vigilante."

"At least the Bat doesn't kill people," Felicity piped up. "Maybe that means he's on our side."

"'Maybe' isn't good enough," Oliver countered.

"I know, just don't go in all arrows blazing, that's all I'm saying."

They continued to mull over motives and theories until it was time for Felicity to leave. Diggle said goodbye and wished her luck.

Somehow Oliver managed to see her off with a smile, which he hoped wasn't as tight as it felt.

When the door closed behind her, Diggle turned to him.

"What?" Oliver demanded.

"Nothing." Diggle walked away, shaking his head.

Oliver stood indecisive for a moment, then grabbed his jacket and headed out.

* * *

Bruce was already waiting when she came in and she smiled as she slid into the booth.

"Hey."

"For someone so sleep deprived, you look stunning," Bruce told her.

"Thank you." Felicity's smile widened. "Did they let you back into your hotel room?"

"They did, after they searched it and made sure there was no structural damage."

"Good. I heard on the news, it was the new vigilante, the one the call the Bat."

"I heard that too, but it's more likely to be the Arrow, this is too far from home for the Bat."

Felicity shrugged, that niggling feeling returning.

"Hey, Felicity," Carly greeted her with a smile. "Long time, no see."

"Yeah, well my job changed and I don't have as much free time as I used it."

"When I heard Oliver was CEO of his company, I figured he wouldn't bring you in here anymore, it doesn't really fit with the professional image, you know?"

Felicity grinned at Bruce, who chuckled.

"What did I say?" Carly asked.

"Carly, I'd like you to meet Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises."

Her eyes widened. "You're Bruce Wayne?"

"I am." He held his hand out. "And it is a pleasure to meet you."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"No offence taken, I can assure you."

"Okay. So, what can I get you?"

"What's good here?" Bruce asked.

"It's all good," Felicity answered, "it just depends on your personal preference."

He perused the menu and Felicity ordered to give him time to look. She didn't need a menu.

"I'll have a coffee and a Big Single with fries, please, Carly."

"And I'll have a Big Double with wedges," Bruce decided.

"Coming right up." She scooped the menus up and almost ran back to the counter.

"You must be a good customer to know the waitress that well."

"There have been times when I might have starved were it not for these burgers." Felicity smiled.

"Oliver wasn't keen on taking you anywhere else?"

Felicity frowned, until she realised that he had the wrong end of the stick again. "Oliver and I are not like that, we've never dated. We used to come here a lot because Diggle, Oliver's bodyguard, used to date Carly, that's why I know her so well. That's also why we don't come here anymore, not because Oliver got promoted to CEO."

"She seems sweet," Bruce noted. "What happened?"

"She's also his sister-in-law. After his brother died, Dig looked out for them and they grew close, but I think it was just too complicated." She wasn't going to mention the damage Dig's vendetta against Floyd Lawton did to their relationship. "But that's rather depressing, give me the gossip on your vigilante?"

"My vigilante?" He asked with a nonchalant tone but he was wearing his poker face, which she thought was unusual.

"Yeah, the Bat. He is Gotham's new hero, right?"

"Yeah, I guess, although opinion is divided over whether he helps or hinders."

"Yeah, well if he kidnaps federal agents, I can see why."

Bruce's eyes narrowed slightly. "He kidnapped a federal agent?"

Felicity could have kicked herself, that detail hadn't been on the news. "I have a friend on the force, he told me."

"It seems like Starling has given up hunting the Arrow."

Felicity shrugged. "It seems to go in cycles."

"Didn't I read that you have a couple more now? Another guy in a hoodie and a blonde girl."

"So they say but if it's true, not much is known about them yet. Not that we know an awful lot about the Arrow."

"What do you know?" he asked leaning forward.

"Like I said, not much."

"Didn't he save you once?"

"Yeah, but he didn't stop to chat or anything." Felicity was having a bad case of déjà vu. "What about your vigilante, didn't I read the Bat stopped thieves stealing a consignment of medicine from your company?"

"He did," Bruce nodded but still had that poker face in place.

"Who do you think it is?" Felicity asked.

"Honestly, I think it's probably someone in law enforcement, or possibly the military."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because your average Joe just doesn't have the necessary training."

Felicity looked out of the window as a familiar shade of beige caught her eye. Reflected in the shop window opposite, she could see Oliver waiting outside.

"Something wrong?" Bruce asked, noting her expression.

"Just… an overprotective oaf who has a problem with boundaries."

Bruce frowned but didn't respond.

"Do you want to get these to go and we'll go back to your hotel?"

Bruce raised his eyebrows. "Is Oliver following you?"

"How did you know?"

"I've seen the way he looks at you."

"Which is how?"

Bruce hesitated for a moment before admitting. "He loves you."

Felicity stared at him for a beat, then burst out laughing.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you, just at your idea." She quickly got her laughter under control when she pictured him and Sara going at it. Had that really only been a week ago?

"I'm not joking, Felicity. I'm good at reading people."

"Maybe you are usually, but Oliver is hard to read. Trust me, he cares, you might even say he loves me like a sister but no matter how he looks at me, he isn't _in_ love with me."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because he's just started dating some Amazonian woman who makes me feel like a frump. Believe me, I am _not_ his type."

"Then why has he followed you here?"

"Because he _is_ a control freak, and he seems to think that you might be dangerous."

"Me?" Bruce's accompanying smile was a little off.

"Don't take it personally. In some ways, Oliver is like a kid and even when he's not playing with one of his toys, he doesn't want anyone else to have it."

"He's possessive?"

"Maybe that's a little harsh. More like, overprotective, even when he doesn't have a right to be."

"So, were you serious about leaving?"

"Absolutely. I am sick to death of him trying to spoil everything."

Bruce stopped a passing waitress and asked for their burgers to go, then turned back to Felicity.

"How does he spoil everything?"

"I invited a friend to a work function and Oliver scared him off, then later, went off on him after my friend had helped him. Then when that same friend was hurt, I went to visit him in Central City, and Oliver tried to make me feel guilty about it. He just…" she sighed. "I don't know what he is, but it's getting really old."

"Old enough for you to consider a new job?"

When she looked at him, he had a sly smile and she had to laugh. "Well played, sir, well played."

"Is that a no?"

"I'm afraid so, at least for now."

Carly came with a bag and their bill.

"Can we sneak out through the back?" Felicity asked her as she reached for her purse.

"I'll get this," Bruce reached for his wallet.

"You can get the next one," Felicity assured him, then turned to Carly for an answer.

"I guess so, but why?"

"Oliver's hovering outside. If he comes in looking for us, will you tell him you overheard us saying we were going to the Plaza to eat our food?"

"You're not going to the Plaza though, right?"

"No. I just want him to learn some manners."

She placed enough cash on the table to cover their bill and a tip, and the grabbed the bag and headed out through the kitchen. Bruce hailed the first cab the saw and they piled in, laughing like school children.

* * *

They opted to sit on the floor of Bruce's suite, laying out a blanket so they could pretend they were having a picnic.

"An Urban Picnic," Felicity had called it.

Bruce didn't much care what they called it, they were having too much fun.

It had been a long time since he had met a woman of Felicity's calibre, and he was becoming more and more smitten with each hour he spent in her company. He knew that the reason he had invited her to lunch was to grill her for information about the Queens but as she recounted the tale of her first and last pot brownie, he didn't have the will to try and redirect the conversation. In fact, since they had stopped talking about Oliver, her mood had improved in leaps and bounds.

Her phone had rung twice but she had ignored it, then turned it off. Alfred had also been instructed to tell any callers that Bruce was not available.

"So anyway, I looked in the mirror the next day, my eyes were out to here, my cheeks were puffed up like a hamster and I felt like hell, so I decided that drugs and I probably weren't meant to be."

"I think it had more to do with the peanuts that the drugs," he reminded her.

"I know, but any drug that likes to hang around with peanuts, is not a drug I want to be friends with."

"That's a little prejudicial, isn't it? Swearing off all drugs just because one pot plant dated a peanut?"

"I still take Advil and Tylenol, they count as drugs, do they not?"

"Yes, I suppose they do, and I can't argue with avoiding the illegal ones. One drug that is legal is alcohol, and I just happen to have a gorgeous claret in the bar. Would you be interested in sharing it with me?"

Felicity picked her phone up but seeing that it was switched off, looked around the room. Her gaze landed on a clock and she bit down on her lip. He could have tried to talk her into it, he was a very persuasive man when he wanted to be but if Felicity stayed, he wanted it to be because she wanted to, not because he had convinced her to.

"You know what? Yeah. Wine sounds like the perfect way to end the perfect date."

"The date doesn't have to end," he said as he got up to fetch the bottle and glasses. "It's still only 3pm."

"I know," she said as he sat back down. "But who says we can't open another bottle?"

"I like the way your mind works." He told her, pouring her a glass, and sitting closer than he had before.

She closed her eyes and tasted a sip, giving a sigh of pleasure as she savoured it.

"That's good wine," she said, opening her eyes.

Bruce couldn't seem to take his eyes off her full lips.

"May I taste it," he asked, holding his hand out for her glass.

"Of course." Instead of handing the drink over, she leaned forward and kissed him. Bruce was surprised but not unpleasantly so.

The kiss was soft and sensual, meant to test the waters and when she pulled away slightly, they were both smiling. Bruce took her glass and set it aside, before leaning in to kiss her again.

The tentative kissed soon turned passionate she began to unbutton his shirt.

"Are you sure?" he asked, before she had pushed it off her shoulders. She moved back a few inches and looked into his eyes.

"I'm sure."

* * *

The pain in Oliver's chest was palpable, like someone had driven a knife into his heart.

It was his own fault for spying but what choice did he have? He didn't trust Bruce Wayne.

When he realised they were no longer in the restaurant, he had asked Carly where they went but he knew she was lying to him, so he pinged Felicity's phone and headed for the hotel. He had a perfect view of Bruce's suite from the roof of the Kim Travel Company.

He tried calling her twice to try and reason with her but each time, she looked at the display and disconnected the call, then she turned it off.

Despite the pain, he couldn't look away from the scene before him, of Felicity kissing Bruce, until she pushed his shirt off. That was something he definitely didn't want to see, and he turned away, taking a running jump onto the next rooftop.

* * *

Felicity had a very satisfied smile on her face as she entered her apartment, although it felt very strange to be doing the walk of shame at 9pm.

She wasn't naive enough to think that this thing with Bruce would become a proper relationship; she worked too much to have time for a relationship, especially a long distance one, but she didn't regret it.

Even if she never saw him again, she would savour these memories, tuck them away in a secret corner of her mind, to be pulled out and recalled when she was feeling low.

She put her keys on the hall table and made her way into the living room, uttering a squeak as she realised that someone was already in there, sitting in her armchair, in the dark.

"Have fun?"

She sagged with relief and brought a hand to her chest in an attempt to calm her galloping heartbeat.

"Jesus, Oliver, you scared the life out of me!" she took a few calming breaths. "But yes, I did have fun, thanks for asking. Now what the hell are you doing in my home?"

She turned the light on so she could see him clearly. He didn't look happy.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay, that he hadn't hurt you."

"I told you that you were overreacting."

"And I didn't believe you."

"The worse thing he did was ask about your family, which is still probably not a sign of industrial espionage, but people being curious about the family involved in mass murder."

"Did you tell him anything?"

"Nothing that wasn't common knowledge. Now please leave."

"Felicity-"

"No, I don't want to hear it. Go."

Oliver got to his feet and stepped closer but she maintained eye contact. She knew his habit of trying to intimidate using his height and build but it had never worked on her, and she wasn't about to let it start.

"He'll hurt you." Oliver pleaded, but there was something else in his voice, something she couldn't quite place.

"He wouldn't be the first. Now get out of my apartment and next time, wait for an invitation."

Oliver seemed to shrink a little and stepping around her, left. Felicity remained frozen until she heard the front door close behind him.

For reasons she didn't entirely understand, she felt the prick of tears in her eyes and viciously blinked them back.

She had been so happy when she got home, why did he have to ruin it?

* * *

"…_sightings of the vigilante, although this remains unconfirmed by the police."_

Felicity looked up from her tablet to the television screen. She had been going through her copy of Merlyn Global's computer files, until the reporter interrupted her.

Surely Oliver wasn't out there without her? Had she really upset him that much?

The image on the screen switched to half and half, split between the reporter in the studio and the field reporter. She leaned forward, putting her laptop aside. Was he standing in front of a QC building? The logo on the side was old and faded, but it looked a lot like the one on the foundry.

"_This isn't the first sighting of the man they call 'the Bat' in Starling City, is it?"_

"_No, Bethany, witnesses spoke of seeing him during last night's incident at the Caledonian Hotel as well. No one is sure why he's here or what his motives behind these two incidents are, but one thing seems certain, Starling City has a new Vigilante."_

She thought that was rather premature, especially since Starling actually did have two new vigilantes in Sara and Roy.

Still, for whatever reason, the Bat was here, and apparently breaking into Queen Consolidated buildings.

Her phone rang and she could see it was Diggle.

"Dig?"

"You got the news on?"

"I have. Where are you?"

"In the foundry, looking through the information Lyla gave me."

"Anything interesting?" she asked.

"Yeah, but little that's concrete."

"I was just going through the results of my search, I found the same, lots of rumours and speculation, no proof. Is Oliver going out?"

"Already gone, wants to see if this Bat left any evidence behind."

"Okay, I'm on my way. I'll give Lance a call too, see if he knows anything about this latest break-in."

* * *

Felicity found the blueprints for the QC warehouse that the Bat had broken into, but it gave no clue as to what the Bat might have been after.

When Oliver returned, he reported that the Bat had stolen laptops and a hard drive from the offices, but nothing else seemed to have been taken. Oliver had found another laptop in a safe, which he gave to Felicity to see what she could find out about it.

The warehouse in the Glades had once stored materials for, and products made by the Queen Steel factory. When the foundry was closed, the warehouse was then used for miscellaneous storage but according to company records, had been disused for four years.

Except it had a higher security guard detail than one might expect for an empty, or almost empty warehouse, So Felicity set about breaking the laptop security and discovering the contents.

"I want this Bat," Oliver growled as he hovered behind her.

"Why?" she turned to face him. As far as she was concerned, the Bat was well trained and on the side of the good guys.

"Because he broke into my company and stole from me!"

"Well, you don't exactly advertise your Arrow contact information in the Sentinel, how was he supposed to ask you if it was okay to take a vacation in your city?"

"Felicity!"

She turned away, not relishing the idea of another fight with him. Besides, she has said her piece, that considering he was a vigilante, he had no right to look down on another one. From what she could tell, the Bat had more morals that Oliver used to, and hadn't killed anyone.

When Roy and Sara arrived, Felicity kept her head down, but furnished them with a printout of her earlier search results on HIVE to keep them busy.

The laptop was two years old, newer than one might expect to find in a warehouse than had been empty for four years. It also used a cypheric firewall and encryption, the same kind of security that Merlyn had used on the Merlyn Global servers, to guard his plans for the Undertaking.

Fortunately, once she had the data directly from Merlyn's system, she also had the decryption algorithm, which she could use to see the contents of the laptop. To break it without that algorithm would probably take her two weeks. Whoever had designed this was top notch, almost as good as she was, in fact.

The others called it a night at 2am but Felicity was nearly done with the program and once she started a program, she wanted to see it finished. An hour after they left, she got into the system, copied the files onto a flash drives and her tablet, then called it a night.

* * *

Felicity was at her desk, going through the contents of the laptop on her tablet, when Bruce called her. She smiled as she spotted his name on his display and answered the call.

"Hi."

"Good morning, Beautiful."

Her smile widened. "You should be careful with your flattery, Mr Wayne."

"You think it could get me into trouble?"

"I think it could get you very lucky."

He laughed. "Good, then how about lunch today?"

"I'm having a working lunch today, sorry."

"This evening then?"

"Ah, today's really not good." As much as she wanted to see him again, she knew that she had to find out what the Bat was after, and figure out how HIVE was involved.

"What happened to me being lucky?"

Felicity didn't know what to say. She longed to say yes but she needed to find out what was going on. If HIVE were as dangerous as Merlyn had been, this could be catastrophic.

"Just half an hour? Please?" he asked.

"Fine, I think I can spare half an hour."

"Great, I'll come to you; I'll pick you up out front at one?"

"Sounds good."

She hung up and got back to her task; the more work she got done now, the less guilty she would feel for taking a break.

* * *

As Felicity exited the elevator, she could see Bruce waiting by the reception desk for her, and Isabel, dressed to kill in a red dress and matching heels, approaching him.

Felicity slowed her pace but she wasn't about to let Isabel scare her off.

"Mr Wayne, it's very good to see you again."

"You too, Miss Rochev." Bruce plastered a fake smile on his face as he greeted her. At least, she hoped it was fake, she would hate to think that she was dating someone who couldn't see through Isabel's paper thin façade of geniality.

"What brings you to my company?" Isabel asked.

"I thought it was Oliver Queen's company?"

"We're partners."

"But he's the CEO, no?"

"We're _equal_ partners," she emphasised. "And you didn't answer my question."

Felicity had paused close by, waiting for her chance to cut in.

"I'm here to pick up my lunch date, actually."

On cue, Felicity approached them with trepidation, she neither liked nor trusted Isabel and her acerbic tongue.

"Miss Rochev." She nodded but didn't bother to smile until she looked to Bruce. "Mr Wayne."

"If you'll excuse us, Miss Smoak, I was talking to a friend. Perhaps Mr Queen is in need of your… _services_."

"Actually, you're talking to my lunch date," Felicity said with satisfaction.

Isabel's jaw dropped open for a fraction of a second before she smoothed over her façade, but it took her longer to find her voice.

"Ready to go, Bruce?"

He gave her a winning smile. "Right this way, my car is waiting."

She took his elbow and although she was tempted, she didn't look back to see Isabel's reaction. She didn't want the woman to know that she got to Felicity and besides, she could just hack the security footage later.

"Where are we going?" Felicity asked once they were both in the car.

"A little Italian restaurant a block away. I've been assured that the service is quick and the food good."

"Sounds perfect."

The meal was enjoyable and the conversation flowed freely, about nothing in particular until Bruce was paying the bill.

"This one's on me," he said. "Please don't argue, or I might feel guilty for wanting to pick your professional brain."

"Oh?"

The waitress took the check and when they stood up, Bruce held her coat up for her to slip her arms into.

"A hard drive was found on company premises that isn't ours and we don't know what it does."

"Can't your tech people hack it?" she asked as they headed out to the street.

"They're trying but they say they've never seen anything like it before."

"Okay, so can you give me a hint to the type of encryption?"

"It's all gibberish to me, but they said it was unusual in that not only is the data encrypted but the encryption program seems to have a built in firewall."

"So first you have to get through an encrypted firewall, then decrypt the data?"

"Yeah. Have you heard of anything like that?"

'_Why yes, Bruce, I have, on a laptop that was in the same warehouse as the ones that were stolen by the Bat, the code of which uses the same algorithm as the one Malcolm Merlyn used and since I broke into his computers from the inside, I just happened to have the right key to crack it in under two hours, which is a personal record for such advanced coding.'_

She almost laughed at the thought but instead, managed to frown and say. "No, I haven't. But I'll do some digging for you."

"I'd appreciate it, if you have time."

She managed to keep her thoughts damped down until she got out of the car at QC. She couldn't remember a word of their conversation after that but he seemed happy enough with her responses, so hopefully he hadn't noticed any odd behaviour.

Once in the QC building she headed straight for Oliver's private bathroom, ignoring the man himself and locking herself in.

Finally she allowed her thoughts to flow.

Billionaire comes to Starling from Gotham. The Gotham vigilante appears in Starling.

Bruce Wayne returned from his global travels about five month ago and shortly afterwards, rumours of the Bat started appearing online.

Bruce Wayne had a computer with the same unique encryption as the computers the Bat stole from QC.

Bruce's parents died in front of him when he was a child, in horrible circumstances. That was surely enough trauma to drive the man that child had grown into, to seek his own brand of justice.

A philanthropic billionaire was the Arrow. Surely it wasn't such a big leap to assume that a philanthropic billionaire was also the Bat?

"Holy shit," she whispered. "Bruce Wayne is the Bat Man."

Oliver knocked on the door. She was surprised it had taken him so long.

"I'll be out in a sec."

She couldn't tell him. He hated Bruce Wayne and he hated the Bat. If he found out that they were one and the same, he might kill him.

She looked into the mirror and could see that she didn't look herself; her eyes were wide and she was far too pale.

"Felicity!" He banged three times on the door, hard enough to rattle it in the frame.

Well there was nothing for it, he'd break the door down if she didn't come out soon. She unlocked the door and tried to slip past him.

"I must have had some bad sushi at lunch."

He grabbed her arm. "You went to an Italian."

'_Right! Damn it! I really need to work on my cover stories.'_

"You followed me again?"

"Isabel had you followed, she's worried you're selling secrets to the competition."

"Then she's dumber than she looks. Wouldn't a spy actually try and be, you know, covert?"

"Felicity, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" she gave a hollow laugh. "What's wrong? Oh, that's rich. Tell me, Oliver, why are you so obsessed with my love life? Diggle is dating an ARGUS agent, not exactly the friendliest or most moral bunch. Roy is dating your sister for Christ sake and as for you, you're dating an assassin, but the guy who treats me with nothing but respect has to be after something right? I'm not good enough or pretty enough or killer enough or Laurel enough for anyone to want little old Felicity!"

He looked rather ashen by the time she had finished.

"I'm not seeing Sara."

Her anger fled, replaced by a crushing disappointment.

"I get that you have to lie to everyone else, I even help you do that, and I get why you'd try to keep it from Laurel, this will kill her, but we're supposed to be your friends, you're supposed to trust us."

"There's nothing going on between me and Sara to tell you about."

She was so disappointed in him, she felt like crying. It wasn't bad enough that he had lied about his reasons for not dating her, he was still trying to lie to her.

"I'm not an idiot, Oliver and even if I was, seeing the two of you going at it like rabbits on the training mats, was enough to give me a hint that you two were more than just friends."

She tore her arm from his grip and stormed back to her desk. Pointedly not looking to see when he went back to his.

* * *

"How did your meeting go?" Alfred asked.

"As boring as expected." Bruce headed into his bedroom and pulled his tie off, then loosened his top button.

"Did you plant the bug?" Alfred asked as he waited to hang up his suit jacket up

"It should be feeding data to us as we speak."

"Do you really think the subsidiaries of Merlyn Global that were sold off, are still being used for illicit purposes?"

"I don't know, Alfred. Merlyn was the biggest player in town and Sagittarius Industries are buying up a lot of his subsidiaries. Whether it's related to HIVE or not, something about it doesn't sit right with me."

"You don't even know what HIVE are planning."

"I know," Bruce sighed. "But shadowy organisations are never good."

"Not even the CIA?"

Bruce smiled. "The Scarecrow said that HIVE has something terrible planned, something that will make the Undertaking look like a tea party. I have to believe him."

"The Scarecrow was half mad, you can't take him at face value."

"Maybe not, but I have to look into this, Alfred. I just wish I could find something tangible."

"Your new friend couldn't help you with the computer?"

"No, but she said she'd look into it."

"Well I might have something, but I'm not sure if it will help."

Bruce turned to face him.

"I found something interesting in the police telephone phone records that you gave me."

"Corruption?"

"No, not exactly.

"Spit it out, Alfred."

"There is an officer Lance in the SCPD and before almost every recent incident involving the Arrow, he places a call to one cell phone."

"You think he's calling the vigilante, like Detective Gordon sometimes helps me?"

"Considering that Lance used to be a detective and was demoted for his involvement with the Arrow, I'd say that is very likely, Sir."

"How did you find that out?"

"I took my lunch break in a police bar. You'd be surprised what people are willing to tell an elderly British man, we're completely non-threatening, you see."

"50 is not that old, Alfred."

"Perhaps not but with grey hair, a cane and a slight stoop, it's easy to look a little more frail than I actually am."

"They didn't wonder why a British guy had ventured into their establishment."

"I told them I was just visiting the city and got a little lost. They were very welcoming."

Bruce smiled. Many people overlooked Alfred, not only because he was unimposing, but because his training had taught him to be all but invisible.

"So the upshot is, you have the vigilante's phone number?"

"Not exactly, Master Bruce. The calls that Officer Lance places are to this number." He took a sheaf of papers from his inside pocket, unfolded them and handed it to Bruce. "The ones highlighted in pink, Sir."

"This… this is Felicity's number." He gave Alfred a questioning look.

"Yes. That was my thought also."

Bruce looked down at the papers again and began to walk in circles around the room as his mind began to process this new development.

"Of course, she works for the Arrow."

"Are you absolutely sure?" Alfred asked. "This evidence is very suspicious but not conclusive."

"It makes sense now, why with her qualifications, she's working as a secretary, why she's always so busy. She's not just Officer Lance's connection to the vigilante, she works for him. In fact, he probably got her that job so that she can keep an eye on Oliver Queen, and that's why she won't accept my, far better, offers."

"She views this job as a calling, much like you view being the Batman?"

"Exactly. No amount of money will pry her away, even from a menial job, if she thinks she's helping the city."

"That still doesn't mean she'll help you, Sir."

"Not Bruce Wayne, no, but if she helps one vigilante, maybe she'll help another."

* * *

Oliver spent most of the afternoon wondering how to fix things with Felicity, how to get her to forgive him. He couldn't lose her, and not just because she was invaluable to the team, because she was invaluable to him.

She was unlike everyone else on his team. She was goodness and light and as long as she could see something heroic in him, he felt that maybe he wasn't beyond redemption.

Felicity packed her things up at the end of the day, ready to move to the foundry, and he moved to intercept her.

"Felicity." He said as he came out of his office, standing between her desk and the door, blocking her path. "I want you to know that there's nothing between me and Sara, I swear. That was… that was a mistake."

"Then why lie?"

Oliver opened his mouth to reply but couldn't find the right words, the words that would make her forgive him.

"Tell me," she implored.

"I was worried about what you'd think. I didn't want to see disappointment in your eyes."

"How can I trust anything you say, when I know that you've lied to me on more than one occasion?"

"Felicity-"

She held her hand up to cut him off. "Don't, no more lies, Oliver. When you're ready to be honest, we can talk. Until then, stay away. Don't talk to me about anything except work."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll take that job in Gotham City. I hear they have a vigilante, maybe he could use a sidekick too."

She walked around him and he let her go, what else could he say?

There was a lot that he wanted to say to her, but the words wouldn't come.

He swallowed down his emotions and prepared to head to the foundry, hoping that she would be there.

* * *

Felicity felt as if she had run three marathons by the time she got home that night, and finding a man dressed as a bat, standing in her living room, silhouetted by the window, was the last thing she needed.

"I have got to get better locks," she said, taking her coat off and draping it over the back of an armchair.

"You don't sound very frightened. Do you often find strange men in your apartment?"

His voice was deeper than she remembered and if she hadn't heard Oliver using the voice synthesiser, she might have been fooled.

"Not often, but I can see a pattern developing. What do you want?"

"Your help."

"With what?"

"A computer."

"Given all the gizmos and gadgets you have, can't you break into it?"

"A friend designs most of my technology but even he can't break this."

"What makes you think I can?"

"Because you're the best."

"And what makes you think I'll help you?"

"Because you help the Arrow."

Felicity suddenly felt uncomfortable and crossed her arms over her chest. It was one thing to know that in theory, someone could figure out her connection to the Arrow, but another to be confronted with the reality.

"I've made you uncomfortable," he said.

"I knew someone would make the link one day. If it had to be anyone, I'm glad it was you."

He stepped closer. "Can you help me?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Will you?"

And here it was, the question she's been mulling over all afternoon and evening. Somehow, she thought she'd have longer before she had to make this choice. She wasn't ready. Was this a betrayal of Oliver? Even if it wasn't, did she want to help him? What if she was jumping from the frying pan into the fire?

"I'll help you if you answer my next question honestly."

"How will you know if I tell the truth?"

"I'll know."

He stared at her for a few moments, and she looked into his eyes. They looked harder than she remembered, but that was probably part of the persona he had to adopt when he became the Bat.

"All right, I give you my word."

Felicity nodded and suddenly felt choked up. What if he lied too? She wondered how much disappointment one woman could handle. She wasn't the type of person to shrink from uncomfortable realities though.

"Who are you? When you take the mask off, who are you?"

He stepped closer, until there was just a foot between them.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

She licked her lips as she stared into his eyes and nodded.

He didn't answer. Instead he stared at her for a few more moments, then he reached up and removed the front part of his helmet, the part that shielded his face.

As she smiled, her tears spilled over.

"Thank you. You hardly know me, yet you trusted me. You don't know how much that means."

Bruce took her into his arms and she held him tightly.

"You knew?" he asked.

She stepped back and wiped her tears away, smiling at him. "You missed a computer at the warehouse; I broke the encryption on it last night."

"So you knew exactly what I was talking about at lunch."

"And where you got it from."

"And what about your green friend, did you tell him about me?"

"No," she shook her head.

"Why not?"

"Because he lied to me, and I didn't know what he'd do to you if I told him."

Bruce gave her a warm smile. "You are quite incredible, Felicity Smoak."

"Thank you, you're not so bad yourself."

Bruce laughed. "So, how long will it take you to get into three encrypted hard drives?"

"Since I've already broken the code, about two minutes apiece."

"Wow, I had allowed a lot longer for that."

"Don't get too cocky, it's going through the data that will take the time."

"But we don't have to do that tonight, right?"

"No. I have specialised programs that can ferret out data faster than a person can."

"That's good."

"So, um, does that mean you have some time to kill?" she asked, a sly smile on her lips.

"I suppose it does."

"And just how easy is it to take this suit off?" She knocked her knuckle against the breast plate.

"Not as long as you might think."

Felicity raised an eyebrow. "I think I have a stopwatch somewhere."


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Happy Valentine's or Galentine's Day, people!

If you don't have a romantic love to celebrate, the Norman's used to celebrate Galatin's Day. Galatin meant "lover of women" and because it sounded similar, was confused with Valentine's day and the original meaning was lost somewhere along the way.

So pick a female friend and let them and everyone else know how much they mean to you!

Thank you for your kind words, I want you all to know how inspiring your feedback is to me.

**Chapter Four**

"So, why are you in Starling, Mr Wayne?" Felicity asked.

They were in her bed, thoroughly sated and to her surprise, she was no longer tired. Clearly her lethargy had been mood related and Bruce's honesty was just the boost she needed.

She was lying half on him, their legs entwined and her head propped up on her hand. Her other hand was unconsciously combing through the smattering of hair on his chest.

"So the fun and games are over?" he asked.

"For now but if you're a very good boy, I'll make sure you're properly rewarded."

"You're on," he said with a salacious wink, which made her heart skip a beat. "I took down a criminal a few weeks ago, called Scarecrow. His plan isn't really important but he was manufacturing a truth drug, which he got dosed with. Unfortunately the drug wasn't perfected and could cause brain damage. Before the police got there, I questioned him, since I suspected he wasn't working alone. He seemed to have taken too much though, and he began to ramble. It's a truth drug but according to my contact in Gotham PD, high doses can also have a hallucinatory effect."

"You believe what he told you was real though?"

"I believed that there was at least some truth to his words."

So what did he say?"

"That he was working for a group that called themselves HIVE, that they have something massive planned, and he gave me the names he knew. I can't be sure, but I got the impression that only those at the very top, know everyone else involved. The underlings seem to be working on small parts of the overall plan in cells, only having contact with each other, and the person who hired them. He also said that I have no idea how powerful they are, or the lengths they'll go to. Two days later, he was killed under suspicious circumstances."

"Suspicious how?"

"Thanks to being dosed with his own drug, he was unstable, so was being kept in a padded cell at Arkham Asylum. Someone switched the cameras off, unlocked his cell and injected him with enough insulin to kill him."

"Okay, that is suspicious."

"I came to Starling following Pete Aitkinson, the only name he gave me who wasn't dead."

"The mobster?"

"Yeah, as soon as the people in his cell began to die, he was fearful enough to turn himself into the FBI and betray the Mob, in return for protection."

"So what did he tell you?"

"The only new name he gave me, was Malcolm Merlyn."

"So who did they get their orders from once Merlyn died?"

"He didn't know. The only lead he gave me, was that he collected a consignment of chemicals from a Queen Consolidated warehouse, the one I got the laptops from."

"Isn't it a little sloppy to be leaving laptops lying around?"

"Yeah. My guess would be that Merlyn or his people were using the when he was killed. If someone else did know, they might have thought the place was destroyed in the quake, or that Merlyn put the computers somewhere safe, or maybe in the wake of the investigation into Merlyn and QC, they were too scared to go check."

"There's always the possibility that Moira Queen was involved," Felicity suggested. "She was rather indisposed behind bars, fighting for her life."

"True, I- we don't know enough to draw any firm conclusions," he said.

"So that's everything?"

"That's the basics. It took me two weeks to get this far, I left out the unimportant bits."

"Okay." Her expression became serious. "You do realise that I'm going to have to tell the Arrow that I'm helping you, right?"

"Do you have to? You said he lied to you."

"Just because he lied doesn't mean I have to. I only lie with very good reason. But you have my word, I won't tell him who you are."

"Will you tell me who he is?"

"I don't know who he is, I've never seen his face." She prayed he couldn't see her lie, but then her conscience got the better of her. "All right, I totally know who he is, but no, I won't tell you."

"Then we'd better discuss how much you tell each party," Bruce suggested.

"What about if I arrange a meeting between you two?"

"I work better alone."

"You need me."

He smiled at her point. "True, but for now, I'd rather not meet face to face."

"You don't trust me?"

"I don't trust him. I wouldn't even have involved you if I didn't need your skills."

"I guess I can understand that. I am going to lie to him about knowing who you are though. He has this way of getting me to talk and if he thinks I know your identity, he won't give up until I tell him."

"Well if you ever decide you've had enough of working for the Arrow, you can come work in R and D for Wayne Enterprises."

"As tempting as that sounds, I can't say yes, not yet."

"Is the Arrow the reason you're working as a secretary?"

She frowned, wondering if he had realised that Oliver was the Arrow. "What do you mean?"

"Are you spying on Oliver Queen for him?"

She gave a mental sigh of relief. "He's the reason I work there but I can't tell you why."

"What if Queen Consolidated is involved in this new scheme."

"Oliver isn't like that."

"But if he was?"

"Then I'd tell you."

"You promise?" He held her gaze.

She didn't flinch from his gaze because she knew Oliver wasn't involved in any way. Others in QC might be involved, like Moira or Isabel, even Walter wasn't looking as upstanding as he once had seemed. And it was possible that a division of QC was involved, without Oliver's knowledge. If that was the case, she wouldn't hesitate to tell Bruce, or Oliver.

"I promise."

* * *

Bruce had left at around three AM, explaining that his butler was really more of a father figure and would be worried if he didn't return soon.

So first thing the following morning, Felicity sent a text to Oliver and Diggle.

'_I've cancelled our meetings for this morning. Can you both meet me at the foundry instead? F'_

Both men texted back to say yes, and both asked what this was about. She didn't reply again but got ready for work and drove to the foundry.

She was at her computers when they entered together, which wasn't surprising since Diggle was Oliver's driver, but they were earlier than she was expecting them.

Before he left last night, she had decrypted the hard drives that Bruce had given her, giving him a copy of the contents on flash drives.

"What's wrong?" Oliver said, entering with purpose.

"Nothing's wrong, exactly," she hedged. "I just have some news."

Oliver visibly relaxed.

"What kind of news?" Diggle asked her.

"I had a visit last night, from the Bat."

Oliver tensed up again and took a step closer. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine and no, he didn't hurt me."

"What did he want?" Diggle got straight down to business.

"He wanted me to decrypt the hard drives he took from the warehouse."

"I hope you told him no." Oliver snapped.

"I told him yes, because _we_ need that data."

"Felicity!"

"No!" She stood up and raised a hand in a 'stop' gesture. "The fact is, he had what we need, the information on those drives. He had three, while we only had one, I figure we got the best deal because once I'd given him a copy, he left the originals with me."

"Felicity he's dangerous, he could have hurt you."

"You're dangerous too but you didn't hurt me."

They were edging closer to each other, tempers flaring.

"Okay, everyone calm down and take a deep breath."

Felicity smiled at Diggle, who was ever the voice of reason in their group.

"How much did you tell him?" Oliver demanded, albeit in a calmer voice.

"About us? Nothing, but he told me why he's here."

"Why?" Oliver demanded.

"Because he caught a criminal-"

"No," he cut her off. "Why did he tell you?"

"It was a condition of me agreeing to help him and if you must know, he found me because he found out that I help you, so could you please stop being a jerk about this because when you get down to it, it's your fault he came to me. If you'd been honest with me from the beginning, I would have left any trace that could link me to the Arrow for Detective Lance to find."

Oliver looked pained at her words but they had the desired effect and shut him up, at least for now.

"So he found you the same way Lance did?" Diggle asked.

"No, he found me through Oliver's link to Lance. He realised that before incidents where the Arrow is sighted, Lance places a call to my phone."

Oliver began pacing.

"So is this Bat going to introduce himself to us?" Diggle wanted to know.

"No, he wants me to be the go between for now. He doesn't know about you, Roy or Sara."

"That's something, at least," Oliver spoke up.

Felicity ignored him and explained what Bruce had learned from the Scarecrow, and what had brought him to Starling City

"That's incredibly vague," Oliver said when she was finished.

"So was our understanding of the Undertaking," Felicity reminded him. "And this organisation sounds very much like that. Remember the list? How only a few people at the top seemed to have it? The people lower down the chain, like those at Unidac Industries, were kept mostly in the dark."

"So what now?" Diggle asked.

"Now I need to go through the data on all these drives and see if there's anything helpful on these machines."

"Can you do it at the office?" Oliver asked.

"It'll be easier here. I was thinking I'd call in sick and call Roy down here to help me."

"That's a good idea. I'll call Isabel and tell her we won't be in today."

"Oliver, you can't, she knows I'm seeing Bruce so if we both take a day off at the same time, while he's in town, she'll think we're planning something with Wayne Enterprises. In case you hadn't noticed, she isn't exactly a trusting person."

"She's right," Diggle agreed. "You and I need to keep up appearances. Maybe you should fill Sara in on this too?" Diggle suggested to Felicity.

She still felt a stab of pain whenever someone mentioned Sara, but luckily it was a pale reflection of the pain she had felt when she had walked in on then. And she was a kickass hero, they could use her.

"Okay, I'll call her too."

* * *

Diggle looked at Oliver in the rear view mirror. He had learned early on in their friendship that if you wanted Oliver to tell you something personal, it was best done when he doesn't have to look you in the eye, hence the car was a perfect opportunity.

"So, do you want to tell me what's going on with you and Felicity?"

"There's nothing going on."

"Right." Dig's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "That's why you followed her on her date, that's why the two of you can hardly say a civil word to one another, and why resembles a kicked puppy every time she looks at you."

Oliver sighed and Diggle waited patiently. Each time Diggle looked in the mirror, Oliver was staring out of the window, his gaze fixed in the middle distance.

"I did something that I lied about, and Felicity found out."

"Are you talking about Sara?"

Oliver's shocked gaze snapped to Diggle's. "Does everyone know?"

"I thought it was just me; I found a pair of women's underpants thrown behind the weights, but I didn't tell anyone. I couldn't…"

He was going to say, 'I couldn't be the one to break her heart,' but that was unfair.

"She saw us, apparently." Oliver explained.

"Well that explains why she's been acting odd. It doesn't explain why you've been weird."

"This guy she's seeing, I don't trust him. She shouldn't…"

"Shouldn't what? Date? See other people? Have sex?"

Oliver glared for a moment, then turned to look out of the window.

"Look, Oliver, I know you don't want to start things up with Felicity and that's your choice, but you can't then turn around and expect to have any say in her personal life. Mistake or not, it's Felicity's choice."

"I just…"

"You just want to have your cake and eat it, that's what you want."

"Not helping, Diggle!"

"I'm not sure anyone could help you two," he muttered. "Look, I've got Lyla, Roy has Thea, you and Sara have each other; Felicity deserves a personal life too."

"I don't have Sara, we both agreed that it was a mistake."

"Then why'd you lie to Felicity about it?"

"Because… I knew… I knew it would hurt her."

"And you didn't want to be the one to hurt her?"

"I just…" Oliver have a long sigh and when he spoke again, he sounded defeated. "I don't want to lose her, Dig. I've lost so much, now this thing with my mother and Thea… I can't lose Felicity too, it's too much."

"I'm sorry, Oliver," he said kindly, "but that's not your choice to make. Even if you did start something with her, you can't stop her from leaving. People doing that is why the courts invented restraining orders." His attempt to lighten the mood went down like a lead balloon.

"What do I do?" Oliver asked, and when Diggle looked in the mirror again, he could see the pain in Oliver's eyes.

"I don't think there's any easy answers when it comes to relationships, and lord knows I don't have the best track record, but I think you just have to be the best version of you that yourself can, and hope that's enough."

"I don't want to hurt her."

"Then don't."

Oliver's expression hardened.

"Look, I know you like to torture yourself and you think that you aren't worthy of love, especially her love but she's not a child, Oliver. She's already seen the horrors of this world and she's seen you on your worst days, but she's still here. That says something, doesn't it?"

"She's still here, but for how long?"

Diggle didn't know, but he had a bad feeling that Oliver was right and one day soon, they were going to lose her, or perhaps more accurately, Oliver would drive her away.

They pulled into the parking garage under QC which signalled the end of their conversation for now, Diggle just hoped that when the dust settled from all this, his team wasn't minus one blonds IT expert.

* * *

Felicity was in her element and watching her decrypt her printouts was a sight to behold. She was focused and determined, with a mind like a steel trap. Once she had hacked the hard drives, she discovered that the data was also written in some kind of code, which had taken her two hours to decipher by hand. Sara and Roy also tried but without success.

Now that the list had been decoded, it appeared to be inventory, and Sara and Roy were looking up the items on the list that Felicity wasn't familiar with, such as 'bromopentane'.

Sara looked up as Felicity spoke.

"_Hi,"_ Felicity said into her phone. _"I got into the files and the data there was written in code too, but they only used a substitution cipher, so it wasn't hard to crack."_

Sara and Roy glanced at each other. "Wasn't hard?" Sara said softly.

Roy shrugged. "Is that Oliver?"

"Probably."

They looked back to Felicity when she spoke again.

"_Yeah, I was wondering if you knew the formula for the truth serum you got from the Scarecrow?"_

"What truth serum?" Sara asked Roy.

"What Scarecrow?" he replied.

"_Yeah, I think we're looking at a lot of little parts of a big picture. The inventory spans two years and has everything, from car parts, to computer chips, and chemicals. Some of the things listed could be used to make a truth serum, such as thiobarbituric acid, which is used to synthesise Sodium Pentothal. I thought if we could cross off the items that we know the use of, it might help us discover what some of the other things are being used for."_

Something about this felt odd to Sara, but maybe that was because she couldn't hear Oliver's side of the conversation.

"_No, I called in sick this morning… This is a little more important that filing memos."_

"That isn't Oliver, is it?" Roy asked.

"_No, you can't come here… I'm not at home, and you can't come here. I'll email you the inventory and you can reply with the chemical composition of the serum."_

"No," Sara agreed. "It must be the new vigilante, and she's very friendly with him."

"_Thanks. I'll talk to you later, bye."_

"They sound more like old friends than someone she met last night," Roy agreed.

Sara didn't contradict him, and the fact that Felicity had called the Bat before Oliver also bothered her.

Felicity was smiling as she hung up the phone, then she placed another call and her smile faded as she talked.

"_Oliver, I thought you'd want to know that I cracked the code. We have a list of all the items that went through the warehouse over a two year period, and I'm trying to narrow down their uses now… I will," _Felicity said into the phone, then ended the call without any pleasant goodbyes.

Something told Sara that things on Team Arrow were about to get very complicated.

A few minutes later, Felicity stood and with a printout in hand, began to list chemicals under the heading 'Truth Serum' on the marker board, crossing them off the inventory as she went.

* * *

Isabel breezed into Oliver's office.

"I heard your secretary was out. It must be hard, sharing her with Bruce Wayne."

Oliver looked up from his screen. "I see you have your claws out today, Isabel."

"They're always out, Oliver, they're just not always as easily visible."

This was the last thing he needed and if he didn't get rid of her soon, he might lose his temper. "What can I help you with?"

"I want you to fire Felicity."

"No."

Isabel looked incredulous. "You can't honestly expect us to keep an employee on who is sleeping with the competition!"

"What she does with her personal life is none of our business." Now if only he could make himself believe that.

"She's making a fool of you, Oliver."

Oliver got to his feet. "No, you're making a fool of yourself. Felicity is the most loyal and trustworthy woman I know and you make yourself look petty and vindictive when you start hurling unfounded accusations about her around."

"If there's nothing to her selling secrets, where is she today?"

"She's sick."

"Really?" Isabel laughed. "I thought you were a lot of things, Oliver, but I never took you for gullible."

"Felicity hasn't had a day off sick since she joined this company and the only vacation she's taken, was to track me down and tell me your plans for this company. You can insinuate anything you want but that doesn't change her character, nor my appreciation of it."

"Yes, I'm sure it's her character you admire."

Oliver curled his hands into fists.

"I'm leaving early today." He had to, she wouldn't leave and if one of them didn't, he'd end up assaulting her, which was never a good thing when you were business partners.

Isabel's mirth fled. "We have a board meeting this afternoon."

"And I'll send my apologies. The board knows what a two-faced pit viper you are as well as I do, I'm sure they'll sympathise with my desire not to be anywhere near you."

He strode out of his office and she followed, her ridiculously high heels clacking with each step.

"Oliver! Oliver, you get back here!"

He opted to take the stairs rather than wait for the elevator, she would never catch him on stairs in those heels, but she might snap her neck trying, which was a comforting thought.

* * *

Felicity was deep in printouts when Oliver and Diggle got there, and in full on Mad-Professor mode. From somewhere, she had found another two marker boards, and was walking between all three, making lists and crossing items off.

"Felicity?"

She didn't hear him.

"Felicity?" Oliver touched her shoulder, making her jump.

"Oliver, sorry, my mind is on a hundred and one things right now."

"How's the search going?" he asked.

"My head hurts," Roy complained.

Felicity ignored him. "Good." She told Oliver, and handed him a stack of papers, bound together with a clip. "Can you and Diggle look through this and see if any of the components make something."

"What kind of something?" Oliver asked.

"Like that," she pointed to the marker board. "Those are five out of eight chemicals needed to make a truth serum. It's a defective truth serum but the criminal who was manufacturing it worked for HIVE. If we can put enough of this inventory together, we might have an idea of the plan."

Oliver looked through the inventory he'd been given.

"There have to be over a thousand things listed on here."

"I know, and most of them are run of the mill stuff, but I highlighted the unusual ones, like the radar, and there's a large shipment of a mineral called Gallium from China, that's used to make high performance microchips but QC doesn't manufacture nearly enough technology to account for the volume used, it would take fifty years to use at QCs current rate."

Diggle was browsing a copy of the inventory too. "On page five, this is a guidance system," he said.

"That doesn't sound good," Oliver noted.

"Understatement," Felicity added. "There's also ingredients to make a few different types of explosives, although each of the compounds listed could have other applications."

"So, have you heard from our friend in black?" Oliver asked, although it seemed to pain him.

"I have, he gave me a copy the spectral analysis on the truth serum. I also told him what we were doing, trying to use this list to determine the plan."

"Did you tell him I want to meet him?"

"No, and I won't until he changed his mind about meeting you."

"Felicity, we know next to nothing about this guy."

"I knew next to nothing about you when I gave you the list I got from Walter, and that turned out okay."

"Let's just get to work," Diggle suggested.

"Hey, you guys are early," Felicity noticed the time on her computer. "Something wrong?"

"Only a board meeting. Given everything that's going on, I thought irresponsible Oliver could put in an appearance and we skip out early"

"If you keep referring to different sides of your personality in the third person and by different names, you'll wind up with a split personality," she warned.

"Very funny." She was making an effort to improve their tense relationship and he was tempted to play along, perhaps tap her head with the inventory, but he was afraid she might misinterpret any gesture he made.

"Where's Sara?" Diggle asked, noticing that she wasn't here. Oliver noticed as soon as he came in but daren't ask the reason for her absence.

"She went to get coffee," Roy explained. "Don't worry, I texted her to get you guys some as well."

"What's wrong with the coffee upstairs?" Oliver demanded.

""It's undrinkable sludge," Roy Explained. "Your family might be billionaires, but their taste in coffee sucks."

"I'm going to work-out for half an hour, then I'll get started," Oliver explained; he had to work off some of his anger at Isabel, although he left that detail out.

He did need to train but a small part of him also wanted Felicity's attention, and she usually liked watching him work-out. Unfortunately he was a disappointed, because today she only seemed to have eyes for the problem she was solving.

* * *

By nightfall, everyone except Felicity was raring to hit something. She didn't really understand it but she supposed if the tables were turned and she had spent the day hitting things, she'd be dying to get back to her computers by now.

Unfortunately, they hadn't made any progress as to the possible uses of items on the inventory, because even the rare items had multiple uses. To make matters worse, she knew they didn't have the whole picture since three of the eight compounds necessary for the truth serum, weren't on the inventory. They must have been shipped through a different warehouse, or perhaps bought locally.

It felt like putting a five thousand piece puzzle together, with only 50 pieces. Felicity loved puzzles but her determination to solve them could lead to her becoming very frustrated. Once, she had even thrown a mug against the wall. Her Mom had been furious with her that day.

She took a break and turned her chair to listen to the other's conversation. They were alternately wondering where they could uncover more information, or who they could beat information out of.

Felicity got a text on her phone and smiled as she read the name of the sender. Bruce had been sending her little messages all afternoon and honestly, that was probably the only reason she hadn't gone all 'Hulk smash' on the Arrow cave yet.

This one was different though, no pleasantries, only 'check your email'.

She duly did and found something from Bruce. She opened the attachment.

"Uh, guys?"

The discussion behind her stopped and she transferred the blueprints to the large display.

"The Bat just sent me these, they're a prototype for a new kind of smart bomb. Small, very powerful and with cutting edge AI, very unstoppable."

"AI?" Roy asked. "Isn't that science fiction?"

"The technology is in its infancy but it does exist and we do already have computers that can learn from their mistakes."

"So what does mixing that with a bomb do?" Diggle asked.

"It makes a smart bomb."

"Don't we already have smart bombs?" Sara asked.

"They're called smart bombs but that's because they're high tech, they aren't able to think for themselves. The design of this suggests that the bomb is manoeuvrable and able to arm itself."

"How do you mean, manoeuvre?" Oliver asked.

"Well it has helicopter blades, like the ones you might get on radio controlled toys but way better, it also has thrusters to change direction swiftly, a parachute for a soft landing and wheels to travel over land. It has cameras, facial recognition, and AI. Basically, if you give this thing a target, it will find them, or die trying."

"But it's a prototype, right? No one has actually built this?" Oliver clarified.

"One was built, sans explosives, for demonstration to the Army but it was never commissioned because of the high cost. Apparently the military bigwigs would rather use cheap and sloppy weapons, than precise and expensive ones."

Diggle grunted in agreement.

"So this HIVE are trying to make it?" Sara asked.

"I don't know, nor does the Bat, but he ran the inventory through the patent database, which is brilliant actually, I should have thought of it, and this popped out as having 61 percent of its parts on that inventory, higher than for any other patent filed."

"I'm not seeing how this helps."

"Ever the optimist, Roy," Felicity teased. "It helps because as well as using items from our inventory, this uses one piece of hardware designed by Merlyn Global."

"Merlyn's dead," Oliver reminded her.

"True, but his business isn't and the Bat has discovered that a company called Sagittarius has been buying up divisions of MG, including the R&D subsidiary."

"Sagittarius made Merlyn's arrows," Oliver reminded her.

"Which makes it even more suspicious," she agreed.

"We assumed that Merlyn was the top man, but what if he wasn't, what if he was acting on orders," Diggle asked.

"Or more likely, had a partner," Oliver suggested. "Merlyn worked with my Mom, there's nothing to stop him working with someone else, and maybe that someone now has other plans."

"I'll get started doing background checks on all the Sagittarius staff," Dig offered.

"And we should pay the R&D division a visit," Oliver said to the others.

"No!" Felicity argued. "We tipped Merlyn off by getting too cocky, we thought we knew his plan and I planted a Trojan in his system. Instead that alerted him to our plans and we missed the fact that he had a second machine. We have to play this one cool until we have our evidence."

"So what do you suggest we do?" Oliver asked.

"Are you up for a little B and E?"

Oliver smiled. "What did you have in mind?"

"The Directors of the R&D division. I'll get you their names and addresses and we can bug their homes. I should be able to hack into their phone lines from the office."

"What is the Bat doing?" Oliver asked.

"I don't know, he didn't tell me."

"What if this is a trap?"

"It's not," she assured him.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I trust him."

"I don't!"

"Haven't we already had this argument?" Felicity snapped. "I don't get it, you tell whoever you like, regardless of the risk to us. Roy has anger management issues to rival the hulk and you let him into the team, no offence, Roy, but I can't even work with someone I trust, someone who has proven himself not to be a killer and who found out about all this before us? I haven't told him anything about you or anyone else on Team Arrow and do you know what? He trusts me too! Now please, clime down off your high horse for long enough to remove the stick that's up your ass."

She turned and headed for her desk, scooping her laptop and tablet up.

"I'm working from home the rest of the night."

And with that, she was gone.

"I think Mommy and Daddy are fighting," Roy said, earning himself a glare from Oliver.

* * *

Bruce's suite door was opened by a middle aged gentleman, with grey hair and kind eyes.

"May I help you, Miss?"

Add a British accent to that and this was clearly Alfred, Bruce's butler.

"I'm looking for Bruce."

"I'm afraid he's gone out for the evening, can I take a message?"

"Just tell him Felicity Smoak stopped by, thanks."

She turned to leave but Alfred's next words stopped her.

"Of course, miss, he's been expecting to hear from you. Would you like to come in and wait?"

"I don't want to put you out."

"Oh, it's no trouble, Miss, he shouldn't be very much longer."

"Thank you." She stepped into the plush penthouse and wondered what it would be like to spend your days surrounded by this kind of opulence. She'd be terrible at it, constantly worried that she would spill something and ruin a lovely carpet, or smash an expensive vase.

"Can I get you something to drink, Miss Smoak?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you." She wondered how much Alfred knew about Bruce. He had to be in on the secret, right? You couldn't live with someone and keep them in the dark.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like some coffee, or juice? It's no trouble, miss."

"Okay, coffee if you have it, please."

To her surprise, he led her into the next room of the suite, and she discovered that not only did the small bar contain a coffee machine, but that Alfred was also quite adept at using it.

"So, do you know where Bruce is?" Felicity asked.

"I believe he's beating the living daylights out of a couple of mercenaries who are hiding out in the Glades."

Well that answered that the question of how much he knew. "Just for kicks, or a particular reason?"

Alfred smiled. "Master Bruce usually prefers to have an excuse, it salves his conscience. These particular gentlemen were responsible for stabbing Mr Aitkinson earlier this evening."

"The mobster? So not even the feds could protect him?"

"Yes, it would seem that HIVE have a very long reach. Do you take milk?"

"Please." Felicity wondered what that meant for her, if HIVE ever discovered that she was chasing them.

Alfred slid a cup of coffee in front of her.

"Try not to look so worried, Miss, Master Bruce is very well trained."

"Call me Felicity, Please."

"Very well, Miss Felicity."

She smiled at him, but it quickly faded. "It doesn't worry you, what he does?"

"It worries me very much, but there is nothing I can do to stop him. Believe me, I've tried."

"Why does he do it? Because of his parents?" Everyone knew that they had been mugged and killed in front of him.

Alfred leaned against the bar. "Are you familiar with Mr Wayne's story?"

"Only in very general terms."

"So you know about his parents?"

Felicity nodded.

"Were it only their loss he was dealing with, we would probably not be here today. Do you know of his fiancé?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Her name was Julie Madison. They were high school sweethearts but then they lost touch for a while; she was busy becoming a doctor, while Master Bruce was busy drinking himself through college. They met again in their early twenties, about five years ago now, and it was love at second sight, you might say. He proposed after four months, and she accepted."

"What happened?" she asked quietly, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"For the final year of her education, she got her first position at a hospital, I believe they call it an internship in this country."

Felicity nodded.

"She wanted to specialise in mental illness and found a position at Arkam Asylum. Not long after she began working there, she discovered that some of her patients were being given an experimental drug and worse still, not something that was used to treat their conditions. They were test subjects for a new drug, some kind of truth serum. Unfortunately, while the drug was effective, most test subjects died soon afterwards. Julie investigated the troubling deaths and presented her findings to the hospital management. Two days later she was found dead, injected with an overdose of insulin."

'_Just like the Scarecrow,'_ she thought.

"Is that's why he took down the Scarecrow, he was looking into her death?"

"Indeed. He was largely unaware of most of this until recently. Julie had confided some vague fears of unauthorised testing at the time, but Master Bruce had been under the impression that she had been given an overdose of recreational drugs."

"So how did he become the Bat?"

"After her death, he spent six months with a bottle as his companion, until a police officer, Detective Gordon, came to see him. Gordon had discovered a string of unusual death at the hospital and suspected that Miss Madison's death was related; he wanted to know if she had confided in Master Bruce. Quite what was said during that meeting, I never knew but he packed a bag that evening, and that was the last I saw of him for four years."

Alfred's eyes were shining with tears as he spoke; clearly he cared very dearly for Bruce and was far more than his butler.

"I hired detectives to track him but after the first year or so, they were unable to follow him, he became too good at concealing himself. I went almost three years with no word from him at all and at times, I feared he was dead."

"Until he turned up six months ago," Felicity finished.

Bruce's return didn't merit the same headlines as Oliver's had, because Bruce had never been declared dead, but it was still big news.

"Indeed," Alfred agreed. "Quite where he learned his new skills, I don't know. He spent a lot of time in Asia but also, from what I can gather, in Africa and Russia. He doesn't like to talk about it very much."

"He came back to find her killers," Felicity guessed.

"I don't know if that was his plan and it certainly didn't start out that way, but when he encountered Dr. Jonathan Crane, he realised that he had been behind the experiments, and that he was responsible for Julie's death."

"Doesn't telling me this break some kind of butler code?"

Alfred smiled. "I'm sure it does but while I began life as Butler to his parents, they left custody of him to me in their will."

"You raised him."

"I did. He's a troubled young man, more so since his return than after his fiancé was killed, but his heart is in the right place."

Felicity stared into the depths of her rapidly cooling but as yet, untouched coffee.

"Drink up." Alfred pointed to the cup, so Felicity took a sip.

"Why are you telling me this, Alfred. Can I call you Alfred?"

"I'd like that, and I'm telling you because he won't, and because since he met you, he's started smiling again."

"I think that's quite enough secrets for one evening, Alfred."

"Of course, Master Bruce. If you'll excuse me."

Felicity watched as Alfred walked away, then turned, shocked to realise that Bruce had heard them.

She expected him to be angry, or at least feel betrayed that they had been talking about him behind his back. Instead, all she saw in his eyes was sorrow.

Still, she stiffened as he approached and almost flinched as he bent to kiss her on the lips.

He pulled away, giving her a questioning look.

"You aren't mad?" she asked.

"No. Alfred was right, I wouldn't have told you all that, but you needed to know. He's a terrible butler, but a very good friend."

"I heard that!" Alfred called from the next room.

Bruce smiled.

"How long were you listening?" Felicity asked.

"I think I caught most of it. I'm only sorry I couldn't tell you myself."

"No." Felicity smiled. "What's important if that you wanted me to know, not that you told me yourself."

"So, what brings you to my not very humble abode?" he teased, trying to inject some much needed levity into the mood.

"I had a fight with-" she's been about to say 'Oliver'. "The Arrow. He wants to meet you and he's not very pleased that I won't make it happen."

"He doesn't trust many people, does he?"

She shook her head, 'no'.

"But he trusts you." It was a statement, not a question, but she nodded nonetheless.

"How does he feel about your feelings for Oliver, and his feelings for you?"

"Oliver? I don't-"

"Please don't lie to me."

Felicity took a deep breath. "Okay, so I have a crush on him. As far as I know, the Arrow is unaware of it and it doesn't matter anyway, because no matter what you think, Oliver doesn't feel that way about me. Now can we please stop talking about my boss, I'd much rather talk about you. I'll even talk shop if I have to."

Bruce smiled, then leaned down to place a tender kiss on her lips.

* * *

After planting the bugs, Oliver had decided that getting drunk was the way to go so he had invited Sara for a drink. She had tried to beg off but Oliver was insistent, telling her that she sounded like a teenager when she claimed she had to be home by a certain time.

Reluctantly, she had agreed and gone with him, more because she was worried about his erratic behaviour than because she wanted to.

He had picked a seedy sort of place, with low lighting to better hide the illicit goings on but she didn't feel she could leave him, because he was acting very unlike himself. Or perhaps more accurately, he was behaving very much like the old Ollie.

He was drunk by 10pm so with some difficulty, Sara dragged him out of the bar and into a cab, intending to take him home. Although he was petulant and argumentative, she somehow got him inside his apartment but before she could leave, he grabbed her and kissed her.

She allowed it to happen for a moment, hoping he would let her go but he didn't.

Three swift moves had him lying on the floor but she hadn't seriously hurt him. Holding her hand out, she helped him to his feet.

"Come on, Ollie, you need to sleep it off."

"I need you, we were good together, Sara."

She sat him on the sofa and took the chair opposite. "Which parts were good for you, Ollie? The lying? Nearly dying? Running from Ivo?"

"We're the same, you and I, we need each other."

"No, we don't. We're toxic together."

"Sara," he leaned forward but she shook her head.

"I have to go to the rehab facility tomorrow, Ollie, and do my best to try and reconnect with Laurel. I can't keep doing this, seeing you behind her back, lying to her."

"Then don't lie, we'll go public."

"And she'll never forgive me if I do that. I'm sorry, Ollie, but I can't be your comfort blanket any more. Besides, you're a grown man now you can't keep using other people to make yourself feel better."

"I don't-"

"You do. People aren't toys that you can just pick up and play with when you want to, then put away and ignore them when it's inconvenient. And I know how hard it is adjusting to normal life but somehow, we both have to find a way."

She got up to leave but paused when he called her name.

"Sara."

She turned back.

"I need you."

"I don't know what you need, Ollie, and I don't think you do either but whatever it is, it's not me."

She left. She almost felt bad but he needed to hear the truth, as unpleasant as it was.

* * *

"So, are you going to tell me how you managed to find that smart bomb?" Felicity asked. "At minimum you'd need a hacker and a damn good processor, not to mention, how the hell did you think to check the Patent Office in the first place?"

"I have my sources," he answered reaching for the pair of wine glasses on his bedside table and handing her one.

"You can't tease me like that!" she argued, accepting the glass and taking a sip. "Although if you keep plying me with wine this good, I might forgive you."

"Wayne Enterprises has a huge R&D section with an awful lot of gizmos that aren't cost effective, but are pretty helpful if you're waging a one man war on crime."

"And no one notices that your company designs happen to be used by the Bat?"

"They haven't yet, probably because we're a private company and our records aren't public."

"But someone in that department must have noticed?"

"The division is run by a mad genius type. Half his ideas are insane, a third unfeasible."

"And the other seventeen percent?"

"A gold mine for the company." He smiled. "And the unfeasible ones are the ones the Bat uses."

"If he's that clever, he must have noticed."

"I'm sure he has. I'm equally sure that he doesn't want to know. He's a big comic book fan and has spoken a couple of times, in comic book terms, about how the Bat must keep his identity secret. I assume he's warning me off telling him too much because he wants plausible deniability."

"So, do you have, like a hideaway, or a Bat Cave! That's such a cool name, so much better than the Arrow Cave."

"He calls it the Arrow Cave?"

"No, I do. He actually doesn't have much of a sense of fun."

"Well Bat Cave makes sense because bats can and do live in caves. Arrows don't live in caves. You should call it The Quiver."

"That…" She frowned. "Is a good idea, I actually like that better."

Bruce smiled. "And while I couldn't bring the Bat Cave to Starling, I do have a base of sorts here."

"I thought so."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "You're psychic now?"

"As fun as that might be, sadly no. You came back from beating on mercenaries in your jeans and sweater, neither of which had a spot of blood on, ergo, you keep your costume somewhere else."

"Costume?" he spluttered. "That is a military grade, super thin, Kevlar suit with mobility enhancements."

"Wow, pretty special then." She played along.

"Yeah."

"Okay, it's not a costume… but you have to admit, the pointy little bat ears and the cape kinda make it look like Halloween outfit."

"It's a god job you're holding a glass of red wine."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because if it didn't mean sleeping in a wet patch, I would tickle you mercilessly for your impertinence."

Felicity gave him a smug smile, took a long sip from her glass, then turned to put it on the bedside table behind her. The look in his eyes as she turned back around, made her shiver with anticipation.

"You're a brave woman, Miss Smoak." He too took a final sip from his glass and set it aside.

* * *

Alfred shook his head as Felicity's shrieks of laughter reached his ears in the living room and with a long suffering sigh, he headed to the kitchen to make himself a pot of tea.

The small smile at his lips did _not_ mean that he approved of their antics. Oh no, he could never approve of such uncouth behaviour, no matter how much he liked Master Bruce's new friend, or how good he thought this development was for his ward.

* * *

**A.N.** Starting tomorrow and for the nest week, one of my bestselling historical romances is on sale in the kindle US and UK stores, for just 0.99. The book is 'Hope for Tomorrow', so go to Amazon and search for the title, or Catherine Winchester. There's one of my books on sale for 0.99 for the next three weeks, so if you liked 'Hope', keep checking back for more bargains.

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-xxx-


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Hi Flamer! You might also be interested in the finding of a new study I read recently. The study found significant correlations between people who engage in this type of inflammatory behaviour on the internet, and those who suffer from the dark tetrad of personality traits, namely Machiavellianism (willingness to manipulate and deceive others), narcissism (egotism and self-obsession), psychopathy (the lack of remorse and empathy), and sadism (pleasure in the suffering of others), with the strongest link to sadism.

Gosh, it must just be swell to be you!

To everyone else, please don't feel the need to console me, as sweet as your words are, I'm truly not bothered. Happy people don't seek to tear others down.

My self-belief and my self-worth comes from the inside, from years of struggling to fit into a system that was designed for normal people, not dyslexics. I survived almost two decades of school and Uni as an undiagnosed dyslexic, having my differences pointed out daily by very well educated people. I slayed those dragons; this is just a gnat, not even worth wasting bug spray on.

The next time you are hurt by someone on the internet, go look up that study (by Dr Erin Buckels) or articles on it. You'll soon see that the fault lies in the person wanting to hurt you, not in you. If a sadist pinched you, would you take it to heart? Or would you see that you just had the misfortune to encounter some freak who _enjoys_ causing pain and suffering in others?

On to happier things!

Those unhappy with Oliver, please remember, he's on a character arc. See who he is by the end, and see if you like that.

And I just have one more thing to say before we get on with the story.

You're pretty f*cking awesome, keep that sh*t up! Seriously.

**Chapter Five**

When Felicity was awoken the following morning, to a breakfast in bed of croissants with jam and butter, and some of the best coffee she had ever tasted, she had to admit,

"This being rich thing, definitely has some perks."

Beside her, Bruce smiled. "If I'd known a few pastries was all it took to buy you, I'd have sent you a muffin basket months ago."

"A well-made pastry can work wonders," she agreed, taking another bite of the flaky pastry. "This is so good, I'm not even mad that I'll have to do the walk of shame before going into work."

And it didn't hurt her mood that Bruce was lying beside her, with only a sheet protecting his modesty.

"Ah, well, about that." He sat up. "Albert spoke to the concierge last night and had a range of outfits sent over in different sizes and styles, sale or return, so just pick what you want, on me. He also ordered a selection of makeup, I know it won't be exactly right but, well. And I had your car picked up, the keys are at the valet desk."

He looked hesitant so she smiled at him.

"That's really sweet, thank you."

"Really?"

"What did you think I'd say?" she laughed.

"Ask how many other women I've done this for."

"Well thankfully, I knew your reputation as a playboy before I met you, secondly, I know that you don't have time to be playing the field as much as the papers say, because there just aren't enough hours in the day. Third, while it would be quite a feat for an ordinary man to do that, thanks to working for Oliver, I know just how slick these top notch hotels are. But I thank you for thinking of my convenience."

He smiled. "You're something else."

"Thank you." She grinned. "So can I see it?"

"The clothes? They're in the-"

"No," she laughed. "Your hideaway, the mobile Bat Cave."

"How about tonight?"

"It's a date." She kissed him.

* * *

"You look cheerful," Diggle noted as Felicity walked into the office. She glanced into Oliver's office but he wasn't at his desk.

"I am," she smiled at him. "It's amazing what a night away from tall, dark and brooding can do for the spirits."

"Nice dress, is it new?"

"It is, actually." She sat at her desk. "How'd things go last night?"

"We planted the bugs but…"

"Uh oh, what happened?"

"Nothing with the mission, that went without a hitch."

"But…?"

"You might have to run point for Oliver in the office today, he has a little bit of a hangover."

Her disappointment must have shown in her expression.

"Look, I know you aren't one to beat about the bush, but go easy on him, he's having a hard time."

"Did something happen to set him off?" The Oliver she knew wasn't a big drinker at all.

"Nothing new but between the rift with his Mom, worry over Roy, guilt over Laurel and fear of losing you, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment."

Her features softened; she'd been so angry with him recently, she had forgotten about his problems.

"I've got his back."

"Thank you."

"So where is he?"

"In the bathroom. It seems he really tied one on last night, and didn't realise he doesn't have the metabolism of a teenager any more."

"I'll be gentle with him," she promised.

"What did you get up to last night?"

"I went to see Bruce, we spent the evening together."

"So things between you are getting serious, then?"

"It's early days, Dig. He hasn't made any promises and honestly, I'm not looking for any. It's just nice to let loose and live a little; I spend so much time in the basement, sometimes I think I'll burn up like a vampire if I spent too much time in the sun."

"I know that feeling. Luckily, I don't really need to work much on my tan."

With a smile, Diggle left and as a sign of peace, Felicity went to make Oliver a coffee, and chose to forget that he hadn't brought her normal coffee today; everyone deserves a pass when they're hung-over.

Oliver was back at his desk when she returned, but he had large bags under his eyes, a sign of a bad night's sleep.

"Morning," she said softly, and he looked up as she placed the coffee in front of him, along with two Advil.

The gratitude in his expression made the gesture worth it.

"Thanks."

She smiled in reply.

"I'll hold your calls, just let me know when you're ready." She returned to her desk.

Oliver came out of his office at noon, looking better but still haggard. "Do you have plans for lunch?" he asked.

"Not today."

"Then maybe you'd have lunch with me? Just take out in the office or something. I feel like we haven't really talked in weeks."

"I'll arrange a delivery," she assured him.

It had been a busy morning for her, not only catching up on what she'd missed the day before, but also fielding all of Oliver's calls. She tried not to hold that against him.

She laid the food out on the low coffee table that sat between the two leather sofas, and chose the one facing the windows, so Oliver could sit with his back to them.

"Thank you," he said as he sat. She'd ordered his favourite from Big Belly, the perfect hangover cure.

"So, Diggle told me you planted the bugs."

"We did but… I don't want to talk shop," Oliver said.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked, her tone guarded, afraid he was about to ask about the Bat.

"You, how are you?"

"I'm good, thank you. Worried about HIVE but then again, when don't we have something to worry about?"

He nodded in agreement.

"What about you?" she asked.

"Oh, you know me."

"Yeah, I do," she said with a knowing smile. "And getting you to talk about yourself is like pulling teeth. So let me break it down for you; how's the apartment?"

"Okay, I guess. Don't get me wrong, it's lovely, but it doesn't really feel like home yet, then again, I'm rarely there, so I shouldn't be surprised."

"And Laurel, how's she doing?"

"Hard to say. Even if I could get in to see her, I think it's too soon. She's having some therapy sessions with her family and while she is starting to open up, it's only to hurl accusations."

"She'll come around," Felicity tried to reassure him.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because she's strong. She's letting herself be crushed because she can't live with the guilt over getting Tommy killed."

He opened his mouth to interrupt but she cut him off.

"I'm not saying it's her fault, just that she thinks it is and honestly, I know how she feels."

Oliver frowned. "You feel guilty?"

Felicity nodded.

"Why?"

"I know in my head, it's Merlyn's fault and he deserves all the blame, I just can't stop going over what I could have done differently? I should have thought to look for a second location. If I hadn't put that Trojan on his system, he wouldn't have moved the devices before we got to them. If I had been the one to disarm it, maybe I would have been faster and still had time to get to the second one…"

"I didn't know you were carrying that weight."

She mustered a smile. "I figured you were already carrying more than your share."

"You think Laurel feels the same way?"

"I do, except she feels directly responsible for what happened to Tommy because he came down there for her. That was _his_ choice, not hers, but she will still blame herself. I have 503 nameless and faceless people on my conscience, but to have just one person that you loved on your conscience, must be so much worse."

He looked hesitant.

"I know what happened with you and Laurel and Tommy, and yes, I'm sure that makes it worse for her too."

"I don't suppose you have any handy tips for overcoming that kind of remorse?"

"Don't feel guilty."

Oliver frowned. "It's not that easy, Felicity."

"Sure it is. When you do something wrong, you have to examine it, learn from it and do your best not to repeat it, end of story. As for guilt, that's just self-pity under a different name. No one but you cares that you feel guilty and guilt won't make you a better person, if anything, it clouds your judgement. Guilt is self-indulgent and the truly repentant are too busy making up for what they did, and trying not to repeat it, to wallow in guilt."

He didn't look convinced but she hoped he would think that over.

"Only people like Merlyn don't feel guilt," he argued.

"People like Merlyn don't feel guilt because they don't accept blame, they have all sorts of rationalisations for what they do, and people can't learn from mistakes that they don't think they made. Merlyn _should_ have felt guilty for not taking his wife's call as she lay dying. If he'd answered, she might have got the help she needed in time. Instead he blamed everyone in the glades, escalating one act of callousness that cost one life, to one premeditated act that cost 503 lives, including his son."

"How do you know so much about guilt?" he asked.

"I'm not as innocent and unworldly as I might seem," she smiled. "After my dad left, my Mom blamed my brother and me, and I started to believe her. Couple of years later, I began acting out, cutting class, shop-lifting and… I may have planted a virus in the school computers that made every screen display embarrassing photos of the teachers that I photoshopped."

"How old were you?" he asked.

"Ten. I was precocious. Anyway, rather than pressing charges, I was a minor after all, and nothing had been damaged, I had to enrol in the Big Brother program, where kids are given an older mentor. I got very lucky with mine."

"Steve Jobs?" Oliver teased.

"I wish." She didn't want to go into any more detail since the good memories from that time, were inextricably intertwined with the bad.

He smiled but didn't ask anything more about that. "How's Bruce?"

"Do you really want to talk about that?"

He opened his mouth to reply, then hesitated. "No," he admitted, which made her laugh. He joined in and for the first time since she had walked in on him with Sara, she thought that there might be a chance they could go back to the (usually) easy comradery that they used to share.

Unfortunately, the clack of Isabel's heels on the marble floor, spoiled the moment.

"Isabel," Oliver got up and moved to intercept her, but she stepped around him.

"Miss Smoak, glad to see that you're feeling better today."

"Must have just been a 24 hours thing," she smiled.

"And it looks like you've given it to your boss."

"Can we help you with something?" Oliver asked.

"Yes. First, I thought you should see this." She pushed a folded newspaper at his chest, which he managed to grab before it fell. "Turn to page five. I also wanted to inform you that I'm taking some time off."

"Nothing serious, I hope?" Felicity smiled sweetly.

"A personal matter. I'll be back on Monday."

"That's rich, considering the things you just said to Felicity."

"But I'm not dating the competition. I trust you can handle things in my absence?" she asked Oliver.

"I'll do my best not to bankrupt the company," he assured her.

"Good." She turned and strode away.

Oliver sat down and look at the paper, an early edition of the evening paper. He turned to page five and felt his guts twisted as he saw a picture of Bruce kissing Felicity while they stood next to her Mini Cooper. She was wearing the same dress she had on now, so it must have been taken this morning.

"What?" Felicity asked.

Oliver knew she wasn't going to like this but he couldn't hide it from her. He passed the paper over and she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand as she read the headline.

'Sleeping with the Enemy'

"Oh God, what is my Mom going to say?" she wondered aloud. "It says it's exclusive, so if I call her now, I might get to tell her before one of her friends does."

Abandoning the rest of her burger, she got up and walked back to her desk, looking a little panicked.

Oliver watched as she picked up the telephone on her desk and dialled, then she got her cell phone out and began typing a message to Bruce.

"Hi Mom, have you seen a paper today?"

"_Is that anyway to greet a person, let alone your mother?"_

"How are you?" she asked.

"_I've been better, I had to see the doctor yesterday about the possibility of gall stones."_

Felicity sighed. Her mother always had to have something to complain about and this month's complaint of choice appeared to be gall stones. Over the past five years she had suffered from tinnitus, heart palpitations, Irritable Bowel Syndrome and cataracts. Each illness lasted long enough for every test in the book to come up negative, then the symptoms slowly faded as a new illness took over.

Felicity um'd and ah'd in the right places, waiting for the conversation over illness to run dry.

Felicity and June Smoak had little in common; Felicity took after her father, or so she'd been told a thousand and one times, usually with negative connotations, and she hardly ever suffered from the numerous illnesses that her mother assured her that she _would_ feel one day, and then perhaps she'd feel a little more sympathetic towards her poor, hard done by mother.

Still, it was her mother and she deserved to hear this from her daughter, not a gossip column. Not to mention that such an oversight would be used as ammunition in any disagreement for at least a year, sometimes longer.

Bruce seemed unconcerned when he replied to her text, alerting him to the article, but he had obviously realised that Felicity was upset and as they texted back and forth, he tried to reassure her that this would blow over in a day or two.

A news alert popped up on her computer screen and she clicked through to the live feed from Chanel 7 News.

"…_the Gotham City vigilante is involved in a shootout with the Starling City Police Department at an abandoned building on the edge of town."_ The newsreader said. _"Details are scarce at the moment but we have been informed that a SWAT team are on their way, and the vigilante is believed to be cornered. We'll bring you more details as they come in. For those of you just joining us, the Gotham City vigilante is involved…"_

"God damn it!" she cried.

"_Felicity! Don't talk to your mother that way!"_

"No, Mom, not you, sorry." She picked up her cell phone.

'_Are you involved in a shootout with the police?'_ she texted to Bruce.

'_To be fair, they're shooting, I'm ducking'_

'_What the hell are you doing texting me in the middle of that!'_

'_I'm hiding in the rafters, waiting to get the drop on two police as they come past.'_

'_You're insane!' _

'_Maybe. I'm crazy for you, that's for sure. Go to go, x'_

"_Did you hear me?"_ June Smoak asked.

"Sorry Mom, what?"

"_I was telling you about the diet Lacy Anderson suggested I go on."_

"The one that's good for people who suffer gall stones, I was totally listening to that. Go on."

"_Well, it sounds very dull to me but I suppose if it helps…"_

Felicity couldn't have concentrated on her mother's conversation if she tried, she was too worried about Bruce.

'_Are you busy?'_ Bruce texted

'_What do you need?' _

'_Meet me at 3__rd__ and Perez Street'_

'_On my way'._

"Mom, I've got to go. You're gonna hear something about me later today. That's what I called to tell you, so you can't say I didn't try. Bye."

"I have to go." She called to Oliver as she ran from her desk but obviously, he caught up with her by the elevators.

"It's personal," she told him.

"Do you want me to come?"

"No, I'm fine, I'll call you later." The elevator doors opened and she rushed inside. "Do not even think about following me," she said as the doors closed.

* * *

Oliver watched as the doors closed, sorely tempted to follow her, despite her words. After a minute of indecision, he sighed and turned away. He couldn't risk it, not after they had just reconnected. He approached her desk, where the phone has fallen from its cradle as she slammed it down, and he replaced it, then walked around her desk to see what had upset her.

The news was live streaming but the sound was low, so he turned it up.

"… _say the Gotham Vigilante has been injured and the police are in pursuit now. We'll keep you updated as more news comes in."_

So she was worried about the Bat. She had run out of here with purpose though, so did she know where he operated out of?

His hands clenched into fists as he fought the desire to follow her. She would think that he didn't trust her, but it wasn't her he didn't trust, it was everyone else.

* * *

Felicity arrived at 3rd and Perez and paid the cab driver, getting her phone out as she stepped onto the sidewalk.

'_I'm here.'_ She texted.

'_There's an RV, get in. The door code is 0209'_

She looked around and saw a motorhome, parked north of the intersection, on Perez Street. It was a few years old, battered and covered in stickers, everything from the Grand Canyon to New York City. It did not look like something Bruce Wayne would own. Maybe that was the point, she thought. She went to the side door and saw a covered keypad. She looked around to make sure she wasn't being watched, including the rooftops of surrounding buildings, where Oliver would probably be if he had followed her. Seeing nothing, she opened the cover, typed in the code and when the lock clicked open, she stepped inside.

It was empty.

"Bruce? Bruce?" she called, but there was no reply.

It looked just like a motorhome but when she opened the bathroom door, she was met by the sight of a weapons cache, with everything from stun guns to swords lining the walls.

She turned as she heard a noise and a trap door opened in the floor. She ran to the masked man and offered her hand to help him up.

"Thank you," he said as he collapsed on the floor, panting heavily.

"What can I do?" she asked.

"Just give me a second."

After a moment, he leaned back through he hole and she heard a manhole cover being scraped back into place, and realised that the trapdoor was perfectly assigned with the front tyres, which would help shield him from passers-by. As he pulled himself back up, he leaned against the couch and she closed the hatch.

"What happened?" she asked, kneeling before him.

"I was following a lead."

"You're hurt," she surmised from his voice.

"Yeah, the security guards had armour piercing rounds, I caught one in the shoulder and I won't be able to sew up the exit wound."

"Come on." She helped him up onto the couch.

The shades were drawn, so she helped him out of his suit, wincing as each new wound was revealed.

"What did they do to you?" she asked.

"I let them capture me, so they would think they had the upper hand and they might tell me something."

"Where's your first aid kit?"

"Top cupboard, over the sink."

She retrieved it and returned to him. She focused on the bullet wound in his side first.

"It's a through and through," she said as she cleaned it. "Bleeding isn't too bad, so I don't think you hit anything important. Do you have antibiotics?"

"Yeah, in the cutlery drawer."

"Then once I clean and stitch it up, you should be fine in a few days."

"You've had practice," he noted.

"If you hang out with vigilantes with a death wish, you tend to pick this stuff up," she answered as she cleaned the wound. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"I was following a lead, a rumour that the HIVE Mistress would going out of town, passing through here first."

She threaded a needle. "And you thought you'd say hi?"

"Something like that," he said with a smile, although it turned to a grimace as she passed the needle through his skin.

"That's a big risk," she noted.

"These people killed Julie, it was worth it."

Her hand stilled for a moment as disappointment swept through her. Just her luck, another man who was mired in the past.

Oliver was striving to make up for betraying Laurel, while Bruce was striving to avenge his fiancé's death. She had a feeling that if she looked this Julie up, she would find her birthday was the same as they keypad code, 02/09.

Neither man could commit to anyone until they came to terms with their pasts.

"I've upset you," Bruce said.

"I'm just concentrating," she assured him, tying off the last stitch. "Can you turn over?"

Not only did she have to stitch the exit wound, this would be easier if he couldn't see her reactions. He turned onto his side.

"So what did you learn?" she asked.

"The identity of the HIVE Mistress.

"Care to share?"

He looked back, over his shoulder, and she raised her gaze to his.

"Isabel Rochev."

Felicity's eyes widened. "I _knew_ that witch couldn't be trusted!"

Bruce smiled. "You seem very pleased to be proved right."

She looked to the wound and brought her needle to it.

"This is going to hurt."

"I know."

They sat in silence until she was finished and he sat up.

"Next time I touch on something sensitive, just tell me to shut up, rather than passive aggressively stitching me to try and distract me," Bruce teased.

Felicity blushed. "I really don't like her."

"I gathered. And you really don't want to talk about it, so I won't push."

"Thank you."

She put the needle away and saturated some gauze in alcohol, which she rubbed over the stitched wounds, before moving onto to his other wounds.

"So if they captured you, where do the police come in? I don't see a sketchy crime ring calling them."

"I called them, they were the distraction to enable my escape."

"And they just let you keep your cell phone?"

"No," he smiled. "There's a gadget on my belt that was programmed to place a phone call to 911 at a specified time, with a recording. I knew they'd trace the signal to where I was being kept."

"So it was HIVE in a shootout with the police then, not you?"

"I don't like guns."

"Seeing these," she said, wiping the alcohol over a graze, "I sort of wish you liked bazookas."

He laughed.

"What did they use on you?" she asked.

"Metal bars, batons, knuckle dusters, the traditional weapons of thugs. Luckily my suit offers me some protection."

"Why didn't they take your mask off and find out who you are?"

"The catches are hidden."

"Maybe next time, call your friendly, neighbourhood Arrow for some backup?"

"I couldn't risk it, besides, I work better alone."

"Okay, so why call me? Judging from these scars, front and back, you've been stitched up a few times in the past."

"Alfred usually does it but he gave me this lead. I didn't expect to get beat up this badly and I knew if I went to him, he'd feel guilty."

"Alfred has contacts who hear HIVE rumours?" She was done with cleaning his injuries and began to put dressings over the worst ones.

"He's more than just a butler," Bruce said with some pride.

"I'd gathered, but I don't think I realised how much more."

"Few people do," he assured her. "Alfred began his career in the SAS, they're the Green Berets of the British Army, the best of the best. He was injured on a mission but although he couldn't run for miles in jungle terrain, or jump from aeroplanes any more, he was still good, so MI6 hired him and assigned him for personal protection to various dignitaries. They trained him to be a butler, so that he could blend in and go unnoticed. I'm not exactly sure what happened, but he had a falling out with his bosses; he didn't like the way they did business, so he left."

"How'd he end up working for your family?"

"He answered an ad."

She looked surprised, and he smiled.

"My parents were from the richest families in America, but they didn't have a drive for business, they left that to other people. My father was a doctor at a free hospital, and my mother devoted herself to charity work. Unfortunately, their wealth made them targets. They weren't worried about themselves, they'd grown up being targets for kidnappers and had all the necessary security in place. When they had me, they wanted me to have a protector too, and they chose Alfred. He went everywhere with me, drove me to school, to my friends. He's been with me ever since."

"He'll know you've been hurt," she told him.

"Yeah, but having to patch up the damage usually makes these things look worse than they really are."

"So, this is your mobile Bat Cave?"

"Yeah, one of them," he said with a smile.

"Have you got a change of clothes in here?" she asked. "As much as I like seeing you half naked, it makes me want to do things to you that would be very bad for your shoulder."

"In the bedroom." He got up. "I'll be right back."

"I'll get your antibiotics ready."

Felicity shook two amoxicillin tablets from a bottle, then opened the refrigerator.

"Of course," she said to herself. "Where else would you keep a computer terminal and servers?"

"Did you say something?" he called.

"Do you have any water in here?"

"There's some bottled water stored in the base of the couch."

She lifted the cushion, opened the hatch below and found lots of water bottles, protein bars and dehydrated food. Bruce came back as she lowered the cushion down. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him.

He kissed her cheek, and she turned her head so he could kiss her lips.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," she smiled.

"Let's get out of here, shall we?"

"Sure." Felicity nodded. "But you're not driving with that shoulder."

"Have you ever driven an RV before?"

"No, but how hard can it be?"

* * *

By the time she pulled into the warehouse, there were a couple of new dings in the motorhome but nothing serious.

She stopped alongside the only other thing in the warehouse, another motorhome, and headed into the back. Bruce was sitting on the couch, working on a laptop.

"What are you doing?"

"Before they caught me, I managed to steal a flash drive, but it has the same encryption as the hard drives I stole. You never did give me a copy of the algorithm you used to decrypt it."

"No, I didn't," and her tone and smile suggested that to was not an oversight on her part. She held her hand out for the drive, and he pulled it from the side of the machine and gave it to her, then closed the lid and put the laptop away.

They got out of the motorhome, and Bruce checked both it and the warehouse were securely locked as they left.

"Who owns this place?" she asked as they walked back to the street. It was less than half a mile from his hotel, so ideally placed really.

"A shipping company, Wayne Enterprises rented it for three months."

"Three months?" She doubted that he was planning on staying that long.

"A shorter lease would have looked suspicious," he explained.

She nodded but didn't reply, and they began walking back towards his hotel. He slipped his hand into hers as they walked and she smiled at him.

"Something's bothering you," he said as they walked.

"A lot of things bother me."

"Anything specific?"

"How to convince O- Arrow that Isabel Rochev is the bad guy."

"He knows Isabel?"

"Knows of her, at least," she admitted. "Maybe it's time the two of you meet."

"I really do work better alone," he said. "Besides, the more people that know who I am, the more danger I'm in."

"You'd know his identity too," she argued.

"Mutually assured destruction?" he teased.

"Something like that. Besides, if this organisation is as big and powerful as it seems, you'll need all the help you can get."

"I want more information before I do anything. Now I know you aren't going to like me asking this question but I have to, and I want you to answer honestly."

"Okay."

"Do you think it's possible that Queen Consolidated or Oliver Queen are in league with Isabel Rochev?"

"Oliver is not the bad guy here, Bruce. Why won't you believe me?"

"Because your judgement is clouded by the fact that you're in love with him."

"I am not in love with him!" She stopped walking and turned to face him.

"Yes you are, and it affects how you see him!"

"Believe me, I know all of Oliver's flaws, far better than you do!"

"No, you don't, you have him up on a pedestal and ignore the fact that not only were his parents and his company responsible for killing 503 people, he's slept with Isabel Rochev!"

"How do you know about that?" she asked with a gasp.

"So you're not denying it?" he asked her.

"I'm not ignoring or denying anything and if you would take my advice, you'd understand why!"

"I'm just being honest, Felicity, and I don't need you to tell me what to do!"

"Fine! If we're being honest, I think your judgement is being clouded by your love for Julie Madison and your desire for revenge on those who killed her!"

Bruce reared back as if he'd been slapped.

"At least I found someone who was good and kind and honest, and who loved me with everything she had. You pine after some playboy who sleeps with anything in a skirt."

Felicity knew that they had both gone too far.

"I think we both need to cool off for a while." She turned and left, before her tears spilled over and he could see how much his words had hurt her.

"Felicity!" she heard his call but walked faster. "Felicity, wait, I'm sorry!"

She heard him running to catch up but after the beating he'd had earlier, he wasn't as fast as usual. She ducked around a corner and using a trick Oliver had taught her, hid in the first doorway. Bruce was running too fast to look back and as soon as he had passed, she went back the way she had come. By the time he realised, she was in a cab and long gone.

* * *

Felicity hadn't gone back to work, it was after five so Oliver was unlikely to be at the office. She didn't much like the idea of going to the foundry either, with Oliver, Diggle, Sara and Roy for company.

Generally speaking, Felicity considered herself a sociable person but right now, she felt like hibernating, so she headed for her apartment. Once inside, she ignored the blinking light on her answering machine, turning the volume off, then she took a shower and changed into jeans and sweatshirt. With the day washed off and her equilibrium somewhat restored, she got her phone out and texted Oliver.

'_What are the plans for tonight?'_

'_Nothing, until I know you're safe.'_

She smiled. He could be very sweet sometimes.

'_Can you come over? I have something I need to tell you.'_

'_Be there in 10'_

She realised that she must have worried him if he was coming that quickly.

While she waited, she got her laptop out, copied the data on the flash drive to it and set about breaking the encryption. She was interrupted by Oliver's knock and felt awful as soon as she opened the door and saw how worried he was.

"Are you okay?" he asked, a hand resting on her shoulder as his eyes searched her for injuries.

"I'm fine, it's just been a long day."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure. You'd better come in."

She stood back and Oliver entered her apartment.

"Truth be told, I half expected to find you here, waiting for me," she admitted as she followed him into the living room.

"If you hadn't been so angry last time, you probably would have."

They sat down, both looking grave.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

"I left the office to meet the Bat earlier."

"I realised, you left your computer streaming the news. Did you know two cops were shot?"

"That wasn't him." She might have argued with Bruce, but she wasn't about to let him be blamed for murder. "That was HIVE, he doesn't like guns."

"That's what he told you."

"And I saw his weapon cache, no guns. That's not the point anyway."

"Then what is?"

"He found out who the HIVE Mistress is. That's a real title, apparently."

"Who?" Oliver leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"You won't like it."

"Tell me anyway."

Felicity knew she had to, she just wasn't looking forward to another argument. "Isabel Rochev."

Oliver's eyes widened in surprise. His mouth opened but he couldn't think of a suitable response for a few moments.

"You're sure?"

"He's sure."

"But what do you really know about the Bat? He could have another agenda here."

"His only agenda is avenging a lost loved one, a bit like you and your dad's list, now that I come to think of it."

Oliver began to pace. "You ran every background check you could think of on Isabel and came up with nothing."

"And I came up with nothing at all prior to ten years ago, that in itself is suspicious."

"I know you don't like her and want to believe this but…"

"Even if you suspect my and the bat's motives, Oliver, you can't deny that her name was on your father's list."

He blew out a puff of air. "I just… I can't…"

They were interrupted by another knock at her door, and she had a very bad feeling as she went to answer it.

Sure enough, her suspicions were confirmed when she saw a contrite looking Bruce standing there, a single red rose clutched in his hand.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding sincere as he held the flower out.

"Me too, and thank you," she accepted the rose and brought it to her nose. "It's lovely but I'm sort of in the middle of something." She looked behind her, wondering how she could keep these two apart.

Given Oliver's dislike of Bruce, and Bruce's suspicions about Oliver, this would not be a pleasurable reunion.

"Can I call you later?"

"Who is it?" Oliver called. Felicity could have kicked him.

"You have Oliver Queen here?" Bruce asked. "Are you telling him everything?"

Felicity sighed. "You'd better come in."

She led him into her living room, which had always seemed a good size, until she had two six foot plus men facing off over her coffee table, now it felt like a shoe box.

She stood between them and glared at Oliver, then Bruce.

"I want you both to know that if anything gets broken, even just a mug, you will both be buying me a thousand dollar gift certificate from Riemann Marcus, got it?"

Neither man acknowledged her, choosing instead, to size each other up.

"I said, 'got it'?" she repeated.

"I've got it," Bruce assured her, resting a possessive hand on her shoulder.

"Understood," Oliver agreed, his eyes taking every detail in.

Felicity looked between them both as she spoke.

"Neither of you trusts the other, I don't know why nor do I care. As far as I can see, there is only one way forward for us all so, I'm sorry but…" she took a deep breath. "Bat, meet the Arrow. Arrow, meet the Bat."

Both men were shocked and rendered speechless for a moment, which gave Felicity a little thrill.

"You're lying," Bruce accused.

"There is no way he is the Bat," Oliver argued.

"Great, so you're both accusing me of being a liar. Tell you what, why don't you compare scars, or better still, go somewhere that I am not and compare ninja moves."

She seemed to have stunned them into silence again.

"Good. Now, why don't you both sit down," she said, sounding much like her 4th grade teacher.

"But-" Oliver began and Felicity quelled his words with a glare. Reluctantly, both men sat down facing each other.

"Great," Felicity said.

Oliver was on the couch and Bruce in her armchair. She could sit next to Oliver, there was a seat there and she has worked with him for longer, but that might upset Bruce, which she didn't want to do so soon after they had made up. She would also feel comfortable perching on the arm of Bruce's chair, but Oliver would assume she was taking sides against him.

Finally, she decided her best option was to sit on the floor.

"Now, who wants to go first?"

Neither of them spoke.

"Okay, looks like I'm up." She turned to Bruce, who although wary, tore his gaze away from Oliver and gave her his attention. "Oliver came to me last year, after his mother shot him, so please believe me, he is not in league with her in any way, shape or form. Not to mention, she hates Isabel, so she probably isn't involved in this one, but that's beside the point." He smiled at her tangent, which helped her to relax a little. "I know you probably only remember pre-island Oliver but that time changed him and when he came back, he was determined to right the wrongs in this city. I've been by his side for a year now, and I'd trust him with my life."

Bruce nodded his understanding, so she turned to Oliver.

"I know you have your reservations about Bruce and the Bat but I'm asking, please trust me on this, he _is_ above board and he doesn't have an agenda here, other than trying to see justice done, just like you."

Oliver finally looked away from Bruce and into her eyes. She willed him to believe her and finally, he nodded.

"I still don't trust him, but I'm willing to be convinced," he said.

"Thank you," she told him, letting go of the breath she'd been holding. "Now I'm just going to sit quietly on the sofa and go through the data Bruce got earlier. You two play nice because I do not like my voice when it sounds like this."

Both men smiled, but they weren't quite at the point of sharing their mirth with each other.

"How much has Felicity told you?" Bruce asked.

"That you suspect Isabel."

"I don't suspect her, she ordered her thugs to kill me this afternoon. Only the arrival of the police allowed me the chance to escape."

"And you say HIVE killed those police officers?"

Bruce looked pained as he nodded. "If I had known they'd shoot at police, I would have found another way."

Satisfied that they could play nicely for a few minutes, Felicity turned her attention to her laptop.

* * *

An hour later, Oliver and Bruce had reached an uneasy truce, although it irked Oliver to see Bruce acting at home enough to make everyone coffee. He consoled himself with the fact that Felicity was sitting on the couch next to him, although given that there were only three seats in this room, it was hardly a victory.

Oliver was now willing to believe that Isabel was involved with HIVE somehow, but it wasn't a realisation that he wanted to make.

He liked to think that he had changed since the island, that he had grown there. Not all the changes were for the better, he would admit that but overall, he considered himself a better person. Now he had to face the realisation that perhaps he wasn't all that different from who he used to be.

First there was betraying Tommy and going after Laurel. Then there was Isabel. Having a one night stand wasn't generally considered morally upstanding behaviour but he felt it was forgivable, they were both consenting adults, after all. Now that there was a good chance she was the Queen (or whatever) of some global villainous consortium, he was reconsidering that logic. A discriminating man wouldn't share a meal with such a person, while he had taken that person to bed.

Finally there was his most recent mistake, Sara. Whatever way he cut it, it was a betrayal of Laurel, if not in actuality, then in spirit.

How many bad choices did he have to make in his personal life, before he admitted that he hadn't changed?

The final nail in that coffin however, was Felicity. Only when he stood a chance of losing her did he realise how very much he cared for her.

Just like he hadn't appreciate what he had with Laurel, not until he had ruined it. He had clung to the hope that they might still have a chance but they didn't, not only had he done too much damage to her faith in him, they had changed too much to work a second time.

A few mistakes were forgivable, understandable even, after five years in hell, but a pattern was emerging, and he didn't like the picture it made.

"Would you like another coffee?" Bruce asked him.

"Thanks but no. I want to check in at home." He may have formed an uneasy alliance with Bruce, but he wasn't about to tell him about 'Team Arrow'. Oh god, now he was calling them that too.

Felicity closed her laptop.

"Did you find anything?" Bruce asked her, and he turned, eager to hear her reply.

"No, everything they do is disguised in some way, as well as the encryption, they use substitution cyphers, abbreviations, partial codes and initials. What's on here appears to be a list of payments, not books or accounts, just payments. Unfortunately the names are all initials and the account numbers are missing the first four digits."

"Can you do anything with it?" Bruce coaxed.

"Nothing with finesse. I can try a brute force search. I'll have to hack into banks which have eight digit account numbers, then see if maybe I can match initials to accounts. That is assuming they're the actual initials of the account holders, not another substitution cypher, and that the banks are American. If we're looking at international accounts, or accounts in somewhere like the Cayman Isles, then we're screwed. "

"Is that likely?" Oliver asked her.

"Ordinarily, I'd say no. These people however, take paranoia to freakishly new levels. I just have to hope that they think their encryption, partial account numbers and initials are enough. To be honest though, if they disguise this data much more, then it would probably become gibberish to even them."

"There's no point disguising something so well that even you can't recognise it," Bruce agreed with her.

"Anyway, I'll get started on that tomorrow. One good thing about the Evil Queen being away, is that us mice get to play." She gave Bruce the self-satisfied smile that she would once have given to Oliver.

"I'd better go," Oliver got to his feet and paused, hoping Bruce would say something similar but evidently, he intended to stay exactly where he was.

He shook Bruce's hand, and just about kept himself from squeezing as hard as he could. Then he turned to Felicity and bent over, kissing her on the forehead.

"I'm sorry I've been such an ass lately."

Felicity gave him her grateful smile, nodding her acceptance of his apology. He liked that smile. It wasn't as bright as her embarrassed smile or her thrilled smile, but it was almost as nice as her proud smile. It was heartfelt, which was why he liked it.

"I'll see myself out," he said, nodding goodbye to Bruce.

As he closed the front door behind him, he heard Felicity shriek with laughter. He had never heard that noise before and imagined it might be the sound she'd make if she were ticklish.

He would probably never get the opportunity to make her laugh like that now.

* * *

"So, how would you like your apology?" Bruce asked as Oliver left. "I can grovel on my knees, beg for forgiveness while prostrate and at your mercy, or tickle you until you forgive me for not trusting your opinion of Oliver?"

"Umm," she pretended to think it over but before she could reply, Bruce pounced, leaping gracefully from his armchair, over the coffee table and landing with his knees on either side of her, straddling her lap.

"Perhaps I should have mentioned that if you don't choose an option in three seconds, it defaults to option three, tickling."

His fingertips danced over her sides and she laughed, first trying to keep him at bay, then deciding to fight fire with fire, and tickling him back. Unfortunately, he wasn't ticklish and when she was laughing so hard that she was breathless, she waved the white flag of surrender.

"You're forgiven! You're forgiven, just stop, please!"

He did, and luckily she didn't seem to mind his childish method of peacekeeping and while she recovered her breath, he settled beside her on the sofa.

"God, you're such a child!" she said, still chucking occasionally.

"Well, you're the one who said, what was it? That I wear 'a children's Halloween bat costume' I believe."

"Well you do!" she defended herself. "While Oliver clearly has a leather fetish."

Bruce chuckled while Felicity grew serious.

"I am sorry for what I said too."

Bruce's mirth fled as well. "Is that how you really feel?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "But allowing yourself to be captured and beaten seems pretty extreme."

"She died a long time ago," he said taking her hand.

"And you ran away rather than dealing with it," she countered. "But I honestly don't know enough to pass judgement yet though, so I'm just going to chalk it up to my insecurities for now."

"Do you want me to go?" he asked.

Felicity smiled. "I don't know what this is between us," she said honestly. "I don't know if it'll grow into something more, or fizzle out after a week. All I know is that I haven't felt this happy in a long time and I don't want it to end, not yet."

Bruce smiled and reached a hand up to cup her face, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone.

"Me too," he agreed, before leaning in to claim a kiss.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: On the home straight now people. Just two more chapters left after this!

Thanks for all your feedback, it's lovely to hear your opinions. I hope you enjoy this instalment and… there's things I want to say but I'll spoil things so… Enjoy!

**Chapter Six**

Felicity had worked her magic and now had a list of names to match most of the account numbers. Assuming the initials were genuine, it had allowed her to rule out accounts with the same visible digits but the wrong initials, although a handful of the accounts had two possibilities.

She printed out a few copies and called Bruce to tell him.

Since she and Oliver couldn't just leave the office unmanned, they were at the QC building, which also allowed Bruce to visit without arousing suspicion.

So far, Felicity had managed to dodge not only her mother but also the press, and to an awkward girl like Felicity, the idea of becoming fodder for the press was a fairly traumatic idea.

Bruce arrived with Diggle, who had agreed to let Bruce in on his role helping the Arrow. He had reasoned that someone with the skills of the Arrow didn't need a bodyguard and that Bruce would likely figure that out for himself soon enough.

Felicity got up and greeted Bruce with a kiss, then they headed into Oliver's office, sitting on the leather couches to talk. She handed all the men a copy of the printout and brought her list up on her tablet.

"I have searches running for all these names, although there are so many that even if we find something relevant, it will probably be overlooked, buried in all that data."

Why not cross reference this list with my father's list," Oliver suggested. "If there's any overlap, we'll know those people are corrupt and can focus on them."

"That's a good idea," she smiled at him.

"I know this name," Diggle spoke up. "Wilson Scott is running for office, as Mayor of Coast City."

"And Alice Crookshank is a business woman," Bruce added. "As is John Jacobson."

"On page two, William Smith could be Willie Smith, the casino owner," Diggle added.

Felicity entered the details into her tablet as they spoke.

"Edward Fyers." Oliver said, and the ice in his tone made them all stand up and take notice.

"Who's Edward Fyers?" Felicity asked.

"My first year on the island, he was running the operation to bring down the planes and destabilise the Chinese economy." Oliver got up to leave and no one tried to stop him.

When Bruce sat forward, Felicity stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Leave him."

Bruce looked from Felicity to Diggle and back, but he didn't understand the anguish and worry he saw in their eyes.

"What am I missing?"

"Contrary to popular belief, Oliver wasn't alone on the island," Felicity explained. "There was a group of mercenaries there, with a plan to crash aeroplanes heading to and from China, thereby destabilising the Chinese economy with what would looked like a terrorist attack. By knowing where and when, they stood to cash in on the tragedy and make a fortune. Like insider trading, only much worse."

"That doesn't explain why Oliver looked as if he has seen a ghost."

"Because they tortured him."

She didn't imagine the pain she saw in Bruce's eyes. If the scars on his body weren't enough of a clue that he had endured a lot, the compassion she saw in his eyes was proof enough.

"They obviously weren't successful in their plan," Bruce noted. "Was that because Oliver…?"

"Yeah."

"If Isabel is the head of this organisation, and they obviously have ties to Fyers, that might explain why the attempted hostile takeover of QC was so hostile." Diggle noted. "Isabel knows that it was Oliver who thwarted her plan on this island, and she's out for revenge."

Felicity nodded. "Maybe but even if she is, Oliver didn't let her get away with bombing the plane and we didn't let her takeover QC. We won't let her get away with what she has planned now either."

"Amen to that," Diggle agreed.

"Where is this Fyers now?" Bruce asked.

"Dead," Diggle answered. "Oliver sacrificed a way off the island to save a friend Fyers was holding hostage."

"Well, I can't hold that against him, I suppose." Bruce may not agree with killing but he knew that sometimes, it was the only way. He'd been lucky that so far, he hadn't needed to kill but he knew that one day, it might be the only way to save innocent lives and on that day, he prayed that had the courage, not so much to take a life, but to live with that choice afterwards. "So what now?"

"We carry on. He'll be back," Diggle assured Bruce.

* * *

Oliver felt physically sick.

Isabel.

Isabel was the reason he'd been tortured. Isabel was the reason he became a killer.

Unbeknownst to him, she had been pulling strings in his life since he'd arrived on the island. If, as they suspected, she'd been working with Malcolm Merlyn, possibly for longer, she may even be the reason the boat was sabotaged.

He kept a motorcycle in the garage at the office, since sometimes it wouldn't be convenient to have Diggle drive him, and he hopped on it now, intent on finding answers.

He hadn't known where he was going until he got there, his mind was a whirlwind and he couldn't focus on one thought but as he stopped outside the Queen Mansion, he knew why he'd come here. Only one person seemed to know Isabel's villainous ways, the one person who had warned him not to trust her; his mother. One way or another, he intended to get the answers he needed.

As usual, the door wasn't locked and he stormed inside.

"Mom! Mom!"

Raisa got to him first and as soon as she saw his expression, she looked concerned.

"Mr Oliver, what's wrong? You do not look good."

"Where is my mother?" he asked.

"I'm right here."

He turned to see her approaching from the direction of the study and without thought, grabbed her elbow and half dragged her back down the hallway. She protested but Oliver wasn't listening.

Once in the room that had been like a second home to his father, he released her and closed the study door.

"What's going on?" she demanded, rubbing her arm where he had gripped her.

"I need answers," he didn't even sound like himself but he was too far gone to stop now.

"About what?"

"Isabel Rochev." He spat each syllable as if it was a curse.

"What about her?"

"I want the truth. I know you know her, I know you hate her, and I need to know why."

"But Oliver-"

"Did you know I was tortured on the island, Mom? Did you know that the men who did it worked for her? The things they did to me…"

Moira paled as he spoke and he believed that she genuinely hadn't known.

"Oh, Oliver… Why didn't you tell me?" The tears shining in her eyes seemed real enough.

"Because I didn't want to burden you. I thought you loved me, and I didn't want you to have to live what I endured."

"I do love you," she assured him.

"Then prove it. Tell me everything you know about her." He couldn't bring himself to repeat her name.

Moira nodded. "Sit down, I'm going to need a drink."

He sat in one of the wing backed armchairs by the unlit fire, and watched as she went to the bar and poured herself three fingers of scotch into a crystal tumbler. It was something he had seen his father do hundreds of times, and the pain of his loss cut through him once more, making him gasp.

Moira poured a second glass and came to sit in the other chair, putting his glass on the small side table between them, and taking a long gulp from her own glass.

Oliver ignored the drink. At one time he would have downed it, trying to dull the pain he felt but not now. Not matter how tempting that idea was, he needed his wits about him.

"Talk," he ordered.

Moira glanced at him, then stared into the contents of her glass.

"Isabel Rochev is a lie," she began. "She began her life as Lyuda Dribbin, and lived in a small village in Siberia. She wasn't a member of the Dribbin family but had been adopted by them, given to them by her parents to pay off a debt. In reality, she was little more than a slave. The family made her learn English, and she acted as translator while Robert tried to strike a deal.

"As you know, your father had a penchant for waifs and strays, and he took a shine to her; she was 17 and had that fragile beauty so many men seem to love. Eventually Robert arranged to buy her from the family, intending to bring her to the Unites States, where she could be properly educated and make something of herself.

"I don't know when they started sleeping together, but I suspect it was right from the beginning."

"Mom?"

She glanced at him, her look pleading for him not to ask any questions until she had finished.

"Unfortunately, Robert didn't account for the damage that such a life can wreak on the mind. Not long after they got back, she became demanding. We had found her a place at a boarding school where she could finish her education but something was always wrong, she needed him because she was sick, because she was being bullied.

"He even tried to get me to accept her into our home but I wouldn't, not with you and Thea here. She seemed determined to take him from us but she had underestimated her worth to him, and the importance he placed on his family. After almost two years, he gave her fifty thousand dollars, then he cut all contact, ignored her letters and got a restraining order against her. She was arrested a few times, she sent some truly frightening letters, threatening to kill you me and Thea, if that was what it took, and then one day, it all went quiet. I dared to hope that she had grown up, moved on.

"Robert checked and discovered that she was in school, using his money to pay for her tuition. He kept covert tabs on her for the next few years and she seemed to be doing well for herself. She changed her name but that didn't worry Robert, he said she probably wanted to cast aside the last ties she had to the Dribbins and when the queen's gambit went down, I thought that was the last I'd ever hear of her."

Even though he wasn't sure who he was angry at, Oliver was seething, and his hands curled into fists.

"You should have told me," he said, his voice quavering with repressed emotion.

"I had no reason to suspect she'd try to re-enter out lives-"

"But when she did, you should have told me. I might have-"

'_Might have what?'_ he wondered. _'Kept it in my pants? Not have slept with my father's mistress?'_

"She was on the list," Oliver managed to grind out. "Why?"

"What list?"

"Stop lying!" he yelled, getting to his feet and hurling his tumbler of scotch against the wall, where it smashed into a million pieces. "Dad's list, the list of everyone who failed our city, the list that got Walter kidnapped, that list!"

As he stood over her, Oliver hated himself for the fear he saw in her eyes, a fear that he was responsible for. Somehow he managed to back away, but his gaze never wavered.

"I- I said she did well for herself, but her methods were… questionable." Moira took a long sip of her scotch, her hand shaking. "Malcolm… Malcolm needed someone to acquire the land he needed in the Glades and in return, he helped her get promoted through the ranks of Stellmoor, far ahead of her time. When we found out, Robert warned him not to deal with her, but he wouldn't listen."

"Is that all it was?" he asked.

"As far as I know. After the Gambit…" She took another drunk. "I suspected Malcolm was responsible and I withdrew from him, as much as I could."

"Is there anything you're not telling me?"

"Nothing, I swear, I've told you everything I know."

Oliver gave a curt nod and strode from the room. Raisa, who had been pacing in the hall, had to scoot out of his way and hurried into the study as soon as he had passed. Her wide eyed look of fear broke his heart and he wanted to stop, go back, tell her that this wasn't really him, that his anger was justified, but it wasn't, not really, because the person he was most angry with, was himself.

* * *

Felicity, Diggle and Bruce had moved into the conference room, where they had space to spread their documents out. Sara had joined them, pitching in, as had Roy, although he seemed to prefer making coffee and doing food runs, to researching.

Bruce left the room a time to two, to take calls from Alfred, Felicity assumed, and everyone tried to work as a team without giving away information that they shouldn't, such as that Bruce was more than just a boyfriend, that Sara was more than a friend and that Roy was more than just a street kid.

By seven that evening, they were all growing weary. Felicity and Diggle were also getting worried about Oliver. Both had tried calling him but he wasn't answering.

An hour later, they decided to call it a night, and Bruce asked Felicity if she wanted to join him for dinner at his hotel. As tempting as the idea was (no preparation or clean up) she was worried about Oliver and begged off, claiming she was tired.

It wasn't a lie, exactly, she was tired, and as soon as she knew Oliver was okay, she was going home to a long bath, a pizza, a cheap romance book (or maybe a few episodes of Downton Abbey) and an early night. Juggling two super-heroes turned out to be hard work, and she had been burning the candle at both ends for a few days now.

Bruce kissed her goodbye and Felicity headed back to her computer to ping Oliver's phone.

"Anything?" Diggle asked as he came through, after checking that nothing incriminating had been left where anyone could find it.

"No, he must have turned his phone off."

"Maybe he wants to be left alone," Diggle said kindly.

"What he wants and what's good for him are two very different things," she said. "And have you forgotten that the last time he needed to be alone? He took off back to Lian Yu."

"He was grieving then, he isn't now. Besides, Oliver isn't your responsibility; go home, get some rest."

Felicity sighed. "All right, fine, but we we haven't heard from him by tomorrow morning, I am officially allowed to panic, okay?"

"Okay," Diggle agreed with a smiled.

They headed down to the underground garage together and Felicity took her time getting in her car, pretending she couldn't find her keys then changing the radio station. As soon as Diggle left, she buckled up and headed to the lair. She wouldn't spend all night hunting Oliver, just try the places he was most likely to be. If he wasn't at the lair or his new apartment, she would go home and at least pretend to try and sleep.

The lights in the basement of Verdant were off but that didn't mean he wasn't here. She turned the power on and saw Oliver sitting with his back to the wall, in almost exactly the same position as he'd been when he discovered his mother's involvement with Walter's kidnapping.

"Oliver?"

Hesitantly, she stepped closer, she wasn't afraid of him, just unsure of what condition she would find him in.

He didn't acknowledge her at all, although she called his name twice more. She sat down on the floor in front of him and finally got a good look at him. His knees were drawn up, his hands resting on them and his eyes focused on his hands.

He was shirtless, and sweaty, meaning that he had probably been working out like a demon, and his eyes were red from crying. He looked exhausted.

He still didn't acknowledge her, so she reached out and placed her hand over one of his.

"Oliver?"

He didn't look at her.

"I thought I'd changed," he said, his voice sounding raw. "I know the island didn't change me for the better, but I used to be awful, thoughtless and selfish, hedonistic, and I had a talent for screwing up. I really thought that I was over that."

"What happened?" she asked.

Tears welled in his eyes again and more than everything, she wished she could take his pain away.

He barked out a sardonic laugh. "What happened? I happened. I-" His words were cut off by a sob.

Felicity scooted closer, ignoring the chill from the concrete floor, and took one of his hands in both of hers.

"Please, Oliver, you're scaring me."

"I slept with Isabel."

"I know."

"No, you don't. Isabel isn't just an enemy, she… she was my father's mistress."

Felicity flinched at that.

"She was being held by a Russian family and treated as a slave. She was only a girl, barely legal, impressionable. He already had a wife and two children who adored him, and he was old enough to be her father. I'm going the same way."

"No, you're not, Oliver

"Yes, I am. Isabel, Laurel, Sara. My feelings for Laurel were the reason Helena turned away from me, if I had committed, I could have saved her."

"So you make bad choices in relationships, that doesn't make you a bad person."

"How can you say that, when you know that finding out who her real father is, will destroy my sister?"

"That wasn't your mistake"

"Wasn't it? What if my kid is out there somewhere? It's not like I had any morals, married women were fair game too, and I was often too drunk to remember if I used protection."

"Oliver, just because you do or did a bad thing, or things, doesn't mean that they have to define you. Only you get to choose who you want to be."

"I want to be someone else," he said.

"Bob Saget?"

"What?"

"I don't know." She shrugged, "It was the first name that popped into my head."

He actually smiled at that, or at least, the edge of his lips twisted upwards marginally.

"Anyway, my point is, you're a pretty amazing guy, Oliver, and I don't want you to change too much."

Oliver dropped his head a fraction lower but Felicity let go of his hand and caught his face, forcing it upwards.

"Look at me." She commanded.

He didn't.

"Look. At. Me."

Slowly and hesitantly, he raised his gaze, but not his head.

"I believe in you, Oliver. Believe me, I know you aren't perfect, and I. Don't. Care. I believe in you, I believe in what we do down here. I believe we're making a real difference in this world, that we're changing lives, saving lives."

"I just screw things up, even when I don't mean to," he answered, lowering his gaze. "I saved Malcolm Merlyn. If I had let him die, there wouldn't have been an earthquake machine."

Felicity took her hands from his face since it wasn't working, and he lowered his head.

"You once told me that the problem with what we do, is that sometimes we lose, and you were right. We just have to remember that our failure to stop them, doesn't mean that we're to blame."

"I think the problem with what we do, is me."

"No, Oliver. Those people died and that was a tragedy, but they died because a megalomaniacal mad man- wow, try saying that three times quickly." She shook her head, as if shaking the irrational thoughts out of it. "What was I saying? Right, they died because a megalomaniacal mad man chose to take his rage out on the city, not because of you. And as for Isabel, you didn't know about your father's involvement with her, you couldn't know, so that's all on her for not being honest, not you. Look at me."

Very slowly, his raised his head.

"You're my hero." She told him with sincerity.

A ghost of a smile graced his lips.

"Now, stop wallowing in guilt, get your ass up off the floor, and let's go get this bitch."

"You missed your calling," he told her. "You should have been a motivational speaker."

She smiled, things couldn't be too bad if Oliver was cracking jokes, even if they weren't great jokes.

"My computers would miss me too much," she teased. She got to her feet and offered him her hand, which he used to pull himself up.

"Come on."

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"First, we're going to get you a shower, then we're going to watch some bad TV, then we're going to sleep."

"I don't want to go back to my apartment."

"Fine, then come to mine."

"Three's a crowd," he argued.

"Bruce isn't there tonight."

"I don't want to cause trouble for you guys, are you sure he won't mind?"

"He better not," she said seriously. No one was going to tell her how to behave.

* * *

While Oliver took a shower, Felicity ordered pizza, then texted Bruce.

'_In the interests of full disclosure, Oliver is staying with me tonight. He's in a bad way and needs a friend. F xx'_

Despite not letting someone dictate her behaviour, she was really hoping that Bruce was the sort of man who could trust her. She busied herself making coffee while she waited for his reply and thankfully it didn't take too long before her phone beeped.

'_Is there anything I can do help?'_

She let out a breath she didn't know she's been holding, and smiled as she answered him.

'_I've got this, but thanks. F xxx'_

'_Three kisses? You must really like me right now. You sure I can't join your sleepover?'_

'_I'm sure, but maybe we can have our own sleepover again soon?'_

'_Just say the word. Take care xx'_

After a long, hot shower, Oliver looked much better when he emerged. He'd brought a change of clothes from the Arrow cave, so he emerged in a t-shirt and cargo pants.

"Hey," Felicity smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"Better."

That wasn't saying an awful lot.

"Come and sit down, the pizza's on its way."

He took the seat next to her on the sofa.

"Thank you, for coming after me."

"What are friends for?" she brushed his words aside.

"I want to be the man you believe I can be, so I'm going to be better," he said. "In my relationships, I mean, no more using people to make myself feel better, no more cheap thrills."

"That sounds… healthy."

"You don't sound convinced."

"That's because I'm not." She didn't want to be cruel but she had to be honest. "Talk is cheap, Oliver, and sure, you feel this way now but what about next week, next month, next year?"

"Okay, I deserve that."

"It's not about what you deserve, I'm not trying to put you down. I believe that people can change but not for other people. Change only works if you want it, and the way you prove it is in your actions, not with hollow promises."

"Understood."

"Good," she gave him a genuine smile, which he returned.

Before they could continue, there came a knock on the door.

"I'll get that, why don't you pick a movie from my collection," she said as she got up. It was their pizza, and not a moment too soon; she was starving.

* * *

Felicity was the first up the next morning, thanks not only to Oliver needing sleep more than she did, but also because she had insisted he take the bed as his need was greater. He had tried to argue, then assured her they could share the bed, but that was an intimacy too far.

She had a slight crick on her neck when she awoke but nothing a hot shower couldn't sooth. She was making them breakfast when he joined her, still damp from the shower.

"Hey," she greeting him with a warm smile. "How's my favourite archer?"

Oliver took a moment to consider. "I'm okay, I think."

"You certainly look better." She'd been worried about him, far more than she had let him see. Finding your friend wallowing in pity and self-loathing, sitting in the dark… well that didn't really inspire confidence. She had never thought that Oliver would harm himself, other than emotionally, but given the demons he carried around, the possibility of a breakdown of some sort wasn't that outlandish. He did suffer from PTSD, even at the best of times.

She also considered herself partially to blame for his recent upset, because she had told him about his mother and Merlyn, and then, after finding him with Sara, had kept her distance, pushing him away.

She could see now that she should have handled it better but even if she had to do it again, she wasn't sure that she could have done anything different. Even if it did feel selfish, she had to look after herself first and foremost, or she wouldn't be any use to him. It would be easy to be swept away by Oliver's strong, almost dominating, personality, but she needed to keep a clear head. If she became little more than an extension of him, she wouldn't have been able to help him last night.

Bruce coming on the scene probably hadn't helped matters but she didn't regret that either, she deserved a life too. The fact that she could share every aspect of her life with him, was a wonderful bonus.

He sat down at the table and she served up eggs, bacon and toast.

"Did you guys get anywhere after I left?" he asked.

"We've got a lot of small pieces but still no idea what the plan is and honestly, I'm not even sure if we have enough to put the pieces together. HIVE is huge, global, and they have their fingers in hundreds, maybe thousands of different pies."

"So what do we do?" Oliver asked.

The only viable solution Felicity had been able to come up with, was to cut the head off the monster. Even if Oliver was willing to execute Isabel though (and honestly, it wouldn't be at all good for his mental state) they didn't have a full enough picture of the organisation to be sure it would work.

Isabel was the HIVE Mistress, the Queen Bee if you will, but this wasn't an entomology class. What if there was a King Bee, or HIVE Master. Worse still, what if the organisation was more like Hydra, the mythical, multi headed beast? If you cut off one head, would two grow back?

"I don't know, but it's too soon to give up. Whatever she has planned, we know it's personal, she's coming after you and your family this time, and we _will_ stop her."

"Why would they want truth serum?" he asked as they ate. "I can't really figure that one out."

"Well, first I would say that intel is probably worth a fortune to them and with an effective truth serum, they could learn virtually any secret they wanted to, if they gave it to the right people. The truth can also be weapon. Imagine if someone had given Clinton some before he gave his speech about not sleeping with the intern, he would have blurted the truth out on national television. Imagine how many other secrets the president keeps. A few strategic question at any press conference could ignite wars, bring governments down… The truth is very powerful."

Oliver studied her intently as she talked and she tried not to squirm under his scrutiny.

"You're right, the truth is powerful, which is why I need to thank you. You always tell me the truth, no matter how unpalatable is it and even when I don't want to hear it."

"It's one of the perils of not having a brain-mouth filter."

"Don't joke, I'm serious. Most people might have lied to me to try and make me feel better but not you, you always tell me the truth, as kindly as you can, and I've needed that more than ever lately. So thank you."

Felicity began to think that maybe he did have a chance of changing.

"Thank you, Oliver, that's one of the sweetest things you've ever said to me."

"Write it down," he suggested. "Then the next time I upset you, you can remember that I can be sweet, sometimes."

She laughed. "So, are we going to the office or lair?"

"Lair?" he asked.

"The foundry. You don't like the name?"

"No, I do. I like the idea of having a lair that I can lure people to, like some kind of vampire."

"Well, you are a creature of the night but I draw the line at fangs. The moment you start chowing down on blood bags or cheerleaders, I am outta there!"

"Deal," he agreed. "And let's go to the foundry. Call Bruce and tell him to meet us there."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm tired of secrets. You trust this guy and that's good enough for me."

"What about Sara and Roy? They came to help us after you left but Bruce doesn't know what they can do."

"I'll call them, they can decide for themselves how much they want to tell him."

Felicity was surprised by this development but she had no reason not to do as he asked.

"Okay."

* * *

"And I thought that your lair beneath Wayne Manor was bad," Alfred said, as he and Bruce approached the former steel foundry, come night club, come secret base.

"Appearances can be deceptive," Bruce reminded him.

"Are you sure we should have brought the motorhomes, Sir?"

"They're trusting me, I should trust them. Besides, we might need something in there, and I don't want to be running all over this city."

"As you wish."

Leaving the RVs in the parking lot, they went around to the south alley, as Felicity had instructed, and she was waiting there for them. She greeted Alfred with a smile and Bruce with a chaste kiss, then took them to the door. She punched in the code so they could see it, and opened the metal door.

"Welcome to the Arrow Cave." She said, as they walked in. The gang, Oliver, Diggle, Roy and Sara, stood up and came to greet them, they paused with about six feet between each group.

"I think it's time for formal introductions," Oliver said, stepping forward. "Oliver queen, CEO and the Arrow."

Bruce took a step into the no man's land. "Bruce Wayne, also known as the Bat."

"Alfred Pennyworth." He stepped forward. "Butler to Mr Wayne, former SAS Captain and MI6 operative."

"Not that everyone doesn't know but I don't want to be left out. Felicity Smoak, genius, hacker and if we're telling secrets, not a natural blonde."

That broke a little of the tension and raised a few smiles.

"John Diggle. Former Special forces and this guy's bodyguard," he pointed a thumb at Oliver.

"Sara Lance, until very recently, presumed dead, with a shady past to make up for."

"Roy Harper, former street thug and science experiment, with enhanced strength and healing."

Bruce's eyebrows rose on the last two but he didn't say anything. "Very pleased to meet you all."

"Well, now that's out of the way, we should get to work," Felicity headed to her computer banks.

Extra chairs from the nightclub had been brought down so that there were enough seats for everyone, and they followed her over to the command centre.

Bruce took in his surroundings as they walked, few if any details escaping his notice.

"I like what you've done with the place," he said to Oliver.

"That was mainly Felicity's doing," Oliver said.

"Yeah, well there were too many spiders down here before, I had to do something."

"So, where are we?" Oliver asked, and Bruce watched as his team went into action.

"We've confirmed seventy people who have received payments from HIVE over the past ten years, and we have over a hundred that we suspect have receive payments but can't prove as the banks have two people with similar initials and account numbers, or we just can't find a matching account."

"Roy and I have been listening to the bugs we planted," Sara said, "and while there hasn't been a lot said, two of the directors seem especially stressed, and it sounds like something might be going down on the seventeenth."

"That's only five days away," Bruce noted."

"So we have to act quickly," Oliver finished the thought. "Felicity?"

"I have searches running through the NSA, FBI and CIA computers, as soon as they know something, I'll know something. So far though, all quiet."

"Lyla is looking into things but like Felicity said, there's no talk through the usual channels." Diggle added.

"Which we know HIVE don't use," Oliver pointed out.

"She's doing everything she can." Diggle defended Lyla.

"I know. Does anyone know where Isabel went?" Oliver asked.

"I pinged her phone but got nothing, which probably means she deactivated the GPS chip. I also have a watch on her number so if she makes a call, I can see which towers the call gets routed through. It'll only give us a general location but it's better than nothing."

"It seems to me that these bugs are our best hope," Bruce said. "Perhaps we should have a word with the gentlemen in question."

"No, no beating anyone to a bloody pulp until we know what the plan is," Felicity argued. "If they catch wind that we're onto them, they could change their plans, even bring things forward, which would be a disaster." She still had nightmares about Merlyn bringing his plans forward, once he discovered the Trojan she had left on his system.

"Felicity, is there any way you could, gently, apply pressure?" Oliver asked her.

"What did you have in mind," she frowned.

"Something like hacking into the news feed, or an email that will worry them into talking to one another, without being specific."

Felicity thought about it for a moment. "They both check facebook a few times a day, how about if I find one of the more salacious articles into Merlyn and put a link to it on their wall as a 'suggested post'?"

"Might work," Oliver nodded.

"Both those men have families, right?" Bruce interjected.

"Yeah," Felicity confirmed.

"Then find an article about the son, that will hit closer to home."

Felicity's eyes flashed to Oliver and she waited for a conformation from him. Bruce was right, an article about Merlyn's plan getting Tommy killed would likely affect these men more than an article about Malcolm alone, but this was Oliver's friend they were essentially using as bait, and she wanted his permission first.

"Do it," he told her.

Bruce had noticed the odd interaction and Felicity was worried about what he would think of her seeking Oliver's permission before acting, although she wasn't actually seeking his permission as such, although she was…

Thankfully, Oliver came to her rescue before she could talk herself into a massive hole that she could spent fifteen minutes talking herself out of.

"Tommy Merlyn was my best friend and… I couldn't get to him in time."

Bruce nodded his understanding, his expression one of compassion, not judgement.

"Okay," Felicity turned to her screens. "Searching for one lurid, click-baitable article, with a sensationalist headline."

"We'll go over the bug recordings again," Sara said, gesturing to Roy. "See if there's anything new or we missed anything."

"I'll give you a hand," Diggle offered.

Oliver and Bruce eyed each other up, then Bruce cast his eye over the training mats.

"Want to spar?"

Oliver liked that idea, probably more than he should. "Sure."

"Play nice!" Felicity warned, although her back was to them. "Don't make me give one of you a time out."

"Is she always that bossy?" Bruce asked.

"You have no idea."

Felicity waved her hand over her shoulder, dismissing them and their jibes.

"Can I be of assistance to you, Miss Felicity?"

She looked up to see Alfred standing by her desk.

"Something tells me that they might need a referee more than I need a hand, but thank you."

Alfred looked over to where Bruce and Oliver were pulling their shirts off.

"Yes, I have a sneaking suspicion, you might be right."

* * *

AN: Okay, I promise I'm through being mean to Oliver now, honest! ;)


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Thank you to everyone who has read and commented so far, your comments are really inspiring. I'll get the final part uploaded just as soon as I have time to edit and proof it. I really hope this chapter makes sense (especially the latter part), writing action can be a little chaotic so please tell me if something doesn't add up.

**Chapter Seven **

Bruce and Oliver circled each other. Each making a half-hearted attempts to land a blow while they sized the other up.

Oliver's fighting style was a mixture, things that he had been taught by many different people and among others, incorporated Eskrima, Kata, Taolu, karate and street fighting.

He was familiar with many more fighting styles however, and recognised that Bruce seemed to mostly use a mixture of Keysi, Tae Kwon Do and Krav Maga. His style was also distinctive in that he rarely deflected any parries, preferring to block them and strike back.

As the fighting stepped up a notch, Oliver was forced to admit that his technique was good; tight and controlled, with little excess energy expired.

Oliver also couldn't help but notice that he also had a lot of scars on his torso and back, not as numerous as Oliver's, and no burn marks, but more than enough blade and abrasion wounds to suggest that he was not a competition fighter. He also recognised stitching in the bullet wound on his shoulder, as Felicity's. Considering how recent the wound was, Bruce was doing a damn good job of ignoring it.

Something about Felicity helping patch him up annoyed him, and Oliver was the first to step things up, delivering three blows much faster than previously. The first blow a distraction, which allowed his second to connect with Bruce's jaw; the third blow, which should have put Bruce on the ground, didn't connect however, as Bruce had compensated for the change of pace and ducked out of the way.

After that, the fight soon spread from the training mats to the rest of the lair, as they used whatever was close to leap onto and off of, much as they would in a real fight. The only space that was out of bounds, was Felicity's desk.

After Bruce had thrown Oliver over the table that Sara, Dig and Roy were using, and Bruce had vaulted over it after him, Oliver used her desk as a barrier between them, giving himself a moment to recuperate, but the fight was getting too close to Felicity for comfort and she stood up, turning to Bruce with her arms spread wide, protecting her computers and making it difficult (but not impossible) for Bruce to vault over it and her.

"If you lay a finger on my babies, I will drain your trust funds down to $5! Same goes for you Queen."

Bruce seemingly believed her, and he backed up a few paces, took a running jump to the overhead light fixtures and used it to swing over Felicity's desk. That made him an easy target for Oliver, but Bruce was able to roll away from the worse of the blow.

After that, they both made an effort to avoid her immediate area.

They ran along beams, vaulted the stairs and swung from the various roped and chains that Oliver used to train with but neither reached for a weapon, as if they had both decided that this was about their abilities, not fancy weapons.

Although he wouldn't have hesitated to in a normal fight, Oliver also chose not to exploit Bruce's bullet wound; he didn't want to win because someone else had wounded his opponent.

They were pretty evenly matched but neither was willing to concede defeat and the fight dragged on so long, that the others grew tired and returned to their work.

Finally Bruce went down but thinking that he had won, Oliver dropped his guard, allowing Bruce to kick his feet out from under him. They lay on the mats, both panting heavily, neither making a move to get up until they'd had at least a little rest.

Bruce began laughing and Oliver was surprised to realise that his earlier grudging respect had turned to genuine respect. He laughed too.

"Man, I haven't had a test that good since the Assassins League came to town."

"Oh yeah," Bruce flinched. "Those guys mean business." He agreed, pushing himself into a sitting position.

"You too?" Oliver sat up as well, just in case this wasn't the end.

"One of them gave me a bruise on my shin that, took three months to go away."

"Who did you fight?" Sara asked.

"No idea, he kept his face covered, they all do. I've run into them a couple of times while I was gone. The first time, God," he gave a wry smile. "I was so cocksure, thought I was invincible. I spent two weeks in hospital, recovering."

"Me too," Oliver agreed. It wasn't quite two weeks, but he was starting to like Bruce. "Diggle had to tell my family that I came off my bike. When I met him again, he had me in a choke hold, and I only defeated him by stabbing myself through the shoulder with an arrow."

"Ouch!" Bruce cringed in sympathy.

Bruce got up but made sure to move away from Oliver, signing that he posed no threat, then he stepped forward and held his hand out to help Oliver up. Although wary, he accepted.

"You got a shower in here?"

"Up stairs and to the left," Oliver told him.

Alfred approached them with a gym bag, which Bruce accepted with a nod of thanks, pulling a towel out and wiping his face.

"If you ever feel like a rematch, give me a call," Bruce said. "I could use a good fight now and again, stopping muggers is good work and all, but it's not exactly challenge, if you know what I mean."

"Just say the word," Oliver assured him. He held his hand out and Bruce shook it without hesitation.

Bruce headed towards the stairs, pausing by Felicity's desk. "How about a kiss for the victor," he asked.

Felicity shook her head but couldn't keep a smile from her lips.

"From where I was standing, that was a draw." None the less, she stood up. "You do get one for looking very sexy however, and not hurting my computers."

Oliver felt that same stab of pain as they kissed, which he now recognised as jealousy. Felicity looked so happy though and no matter how he felt or how much it hurt, he wanted her to be happy. He swallowed the pain down.

"What about me?" Oliver asked in a teasing voice as Bruce walked away. "I'm sexy and I stayed out of your way too."

Felicity smiled. "Dig will kiss you, I'm sure."

"How'd I get dragged into this?" Diggle asked.

* * *

That afternoon, Sara informed them that she had listened in to a telephone conversation in which the two directors had agreed to meet by the pond in the park after work, both sounding upset or worried.

Bruce had three directional microphones in his mobile Bat Cave and between them, they organised for three people to be in the park to aim the long distance mics at them. It worried the team members with training, that they had picked a location where it would be difficult to listen in on them, until Felicity reminded them how paranoid HIVE seemed to be, and that it wouldn't be unreasonable for them to assume such an organisation might have bugged their offices.

Because Bruce and Oliver's faces were well known, Sara, Alfred and Roy would be in the park, while the others waited in the RV, and Felicity would do her best to clean the feed up as it came in since over distance, sound quality would inevitably be lost. She also hacked into the CCTV cameras that surrounded the park, although she would be blind once they were inside.

Alfred dressed as he normally did, although he hunched over more and used a cane, hoping to give the impression of being a retired gentleman, out for a daily stroll to feed the ducks. His directional mic was be concealed by a broadsheet newspaper.

Roy dressed as a gardener, with caps and overalls with the city emblem sewn on, and spent his time weeding flower beds. His mic could be hidden in his tool box and Felicity forged a permit that would fool any cop who asked if he had permission to work there, although she didn't have time to create anything that would hold up to a proper examination.

Sara dressed in sweat pants and t-shirt and would do yoga (not an uncommon sight in a city when few people had gardens) and hid the mic in her gym bag.

All three of them wore ear pieces and personal mics, so that they could stay in contact with the RV and each other, enabling them to keep track of the directors if they decided to walk.

It went off without a hitch and they were able to record around 90% of their conversation, although some of it a lot of cleaning up before the conversation became clear.

Back in the Arrow Cave, Felicity went to work, using programs that she had 'borrowed' from law enforcement. The others listen to and transcribed each portion of conversation as it was ready.

"_Did you see that article on the Merlyn's today?" _

"_Yeah. Poor kid." _

"_What about our kids!"_

"_You know what they'll do to our kids if we don't!"_

"_I know! I know… I just…"_

"_How are we going to live with ourselves?"_

"_Yeah." _

"_What choice do we have? If we go to the police, they kill Carrie and Jed, if we go to the press, they kill Carrie and Jed, if we fail to deliver-"_

"_They kill Carrie and Jed, I know. Can we even trust that they'll keep their word and let them go?" _

"_I don't know, but I'm not willing to bluff, are you?"_

"Who are Carrie and Jed?" Oliver asked once that section was finished.

"Their kids, I think" Felicity explained, while still cleaning up the next portion of the recording. "I remember something in the background reports we did."

Diggle began looking through papers. "I got it… They are their kids, eldest and middle child respectably, and both are supposed to be away, Carrie is thirteen and at school in Europe, and Jed is twelve, he's supposed to be staying with an Aunt down in Florida."

"So they're doing this under duress," Bruce realised. "If we could get to those kids and free them, then we take away their leverage."

"One job at a time," Felicity complained, feeling a little harassed. "The next portion of conversation is almost ready."

There seemed to be a slight gap in the conversation, as the directors moved between microphones.

"…_two days." _

"_Will it be ready?" _

"_Yeah."_

"_What if we contacted the police anonymously?" _

"_What! Are you kidding me!"_

"_There has to be some way we can let someone know, without them finding out."_

"_I do not want you gambling with my child's life! Got it?"_

"_Yeah, yeah, but-"_

"_No, no buts. If they get even a hint that anything leaked, they'll scrub the operation."_

"_Isn't that a good thing?" _

"_I said scrub, not scrap. They'll kill you, me, our kids and anyone else who might be a link back to them. Do you understand what's at stake here?" _

"_I know, hundreds, maybe thou-" _

"One of them must have turned his head, away from the mic there, and I can't clean up sound that hadn't been recorded." Felicity explained.

"…_know. The media will eat Queen alive for this."_

"_If they ever find out who really made those weapons, they'll eat us alive, assuming HIVE leaves any bones for the media to pick clean."_

Felicity gave them the rest of the recordings as they were finished but there were no new details to be picked from them.

"So all we really know, is that someone is manufacturing weapons with the Queen name," Oliver said. "QC hasn't made weapon since my grandfather's day."

"It sounds like a smear campaign," Felicity said. "Even if you can eventually prove you didn't make them, the media will run with whatever name is on the weapons and worry about proof later, and by that time, QC will likely go under, especially in the wake of the earthquake machine."

Oliver nodded, looking worried.

"Then as soon as we know what's happening, I'll call a press conference. I'll say that it has come to our attention that someone is making weapons with our name on them, but they are counterfeit and not related to QC at all."

"It might work," Sara agreed.

"Except its Isabel who's behind this, she will have planted a false trail in our computers for the authorities to find. I'll go looking and see what I can find, but we have to assume she's done a top notch job of framing Oliver."

"It also involves 'hundreds maybe thousands' of something," Roy added. "But of what?"

"Hundreds or thousands of weapons?" Sara asked.

"From the way he was speaking, I think they were talking about casualties," Bruce offered.

"Okay, let's assume these weapons will kill a lot of people; how?" Felicity asked.

"Are they selling those smart bomb things that you found a design for?" Roy suggested.

"I doubt it," Bruce said. "That's a sharp, targeted tool, designed to minimise casualties, not maximise them. They would also be prohibitively expensive. Now, Isabel is cold and callous, possibly even psychopathic, but she's also an excellent business woman, she won't be spending a dime more on this than she has to."

"Well, let's assume it's the usual trafficked arms for now," Diggle said. "Guns, grenades, bazookas, maybe missiles, that kind of thing."

"Okay, but why would Queen, I mean, Oliver, be 'eaten alive' for it?" Felicity wondered. "People commit horrible crimes every day, but no one blames Colt or Smith & Wesson when some psyco shoots up a school."

"An illegal arms deal would do the trick," Alfred ventured. "Knowingly supplying illegal arms to a terrorist or to street thugs, would reflect very badly on the company responsible, not the mention, on the CEO who approved such a transaction."

"That's got to be it," Felicity agreed.

"Right," Diggle spoke up. "So, Felicity needs to hack into QC and find the records Isabel altered that point the finger back at Isabel. We then need to find those weapons and turn them over to the authorities before they can be sold."

"You make it sound so easy," Bruce noted with a wry smile.

"Not easy," Oliver agreed, "But it should be do-able."

"I can try hacking into Sagittarius records and see if or where they're making guns but, honestly guys, it could take me a couple of days to completely sweep the QC mainframe and as good as I am, I can't hack two places at once."

"I have a friend who can help," Bruce said.

"How good is he?" Felicity asked.

"He's more of an inventor than a programmer, but he's good."

Felicity bit down on her lip. "Okay, well I basically designed the QC firewalls so I can talk him through exploiting their weaknesses, there aren't many of them but with my help, he'll get into QC faster than he would Sagittarius; they have seriously beefed up their security since the last time I hacked in."

"So if you get the Sagittarius company records, we'll have everything we need, right?" Oliver asked.

"Not quite, they still have two innocent children," Sara reminded them. "We can't do anything with any of the information we get, not until we know where they are."

Felicity wanted to argue, as did almost everyone else in the room after all, intellectually she knew that saving the 'hundreds or thousands' of lives these weapons would take, was more important than saving two. It was logical to sacrifice the few for the many. It didn't matter how much she tied to talk herself into it though, she couldn't. They had to find those kids.

No one contradicted Sara, so it seemed that no one else wanted to argue the point either.

"Felicity, which of those directors wanted to go to the authorities?" Oliver asked.

"I don't know, I don't know their voices."

"It was the one in the light brown coat," Roy supplied.

"Do you mean tan?" Felicity asked?

"Yeah, the other one had on a dark blue coat, almost black."

"And you're sure he was the one that was wavering?" Bruce gave Roy a hard stare, not because he didn't trust him, but because they needed to be absolutely certain.

"I'm sure," Roy held his gaze.

"I'll check the camera footage and match that with their pictures on the company website." Felicity said, already tapping on her tablet.

Oliver and Bruce looked at each other.

"Then we go and have a pointed conversation with him," Oliver stated rather than asked.

Bruce nodded. "We can't be seen though."

"Felicity found a satellite image of their houses and the original architectural plans for when we bugged them, we'll find a way in that won't be seen."

"I'll reach out to my contacts, see if they've heard any chatter of an arms deal," Alfred said.

"Me too," Diggle agreed.

"I'm still on friendly-ish terms with some lowlifes in the glades," Roy added. "I'll ask around. Maybe we have another Mayor wannabe in town."

"Good idea," Oliver agreed.

"I'll go with you," Sara said.

"Then, let's get to it," Diggle said, rising from his chair, and everyone scattered to complete their tasks.

* * *

In the event, Oliver and Bruce were unable to find a way into the director's home that would guarantee they were unseen, so with Felicity's help, they came up with a plan B, which they enacted the next day.

As Bruce let go of Oliver, he stepped back and tried not to be envious of the jetpack. He'd have to ask Felicity of she could find out what they cost. Bruce Wayne's was a custom job, of course, and a very convenient way to get to the top of the tallest building in a two block radius. Had he been alone, Oliver would probably have parachuted in, since there just wasn't anything close enough to jump off or from, but chartering planes wasn't always easy. Even if Diggle could fly them (Oliver had never asked) they would have to file a flight plan and planes had identifying marks which could be traced back… The jetpack was much easier, and way cooler.

Now that both men were standing on a rooftop, in broad daylight, in full costume, he felt markedly less cool. Something about doing this at night just made it feel normal.

"So, what's that made of?" Oliver nodded towards Bruce's chest, meaning his suit.

It most resembled motorcycle leathers. Today he had left the cape off, since they would soon be climbing in air vents.

"Leather, lined with a microfiber which acts like Kevlar."

"Look much thinner than Kevlar."

"It is, it's just too expensive for the police and armed forced to justify when it's no more effective that what they use now."

"Don't you get hot in there?"

"It's a high tech fabric which allows breathability and it becomes more aerated when my skin gets hot. Unfortunately, the leather exterior negated that so yeah, it gets as hot as hell in here sometimes."

Oliver smiled, pleased that there were some cons to the Bat's attire.

"It looks different from the suits I've seen you wear on the news."

"I have a few different ones. This is the lightest, best for using in confined spaces. The strongest is more like a suit of armour, it weighs a ton and barely allows me to turn my head. I hate that one."

"Why wear it then?"

"Comes in handy when going up against people who are either heavily armed or worse, armed with more than just guns."

They stood there awkwardly for a few moments.

"I love the leather, by the way," Bruce said.

"Yeah, it's, uh, yeah."

"I've always wondered though, why a green hood?"

"It was given to me, I wear it to honour Shado, who wore it to honour her father."

"I like that, it's like having a legacy."

He wasn't wrong, even if the legacy was bittersweet.

"Why doesn't the hood come off when you fight?"

"Well, the hood is… you see, the cut, it's… I have no idea!" he admitted with a smile. "I guess better men than me put a lot of thought into it."

Bruce smiled. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." He braced himself for an awkward question about Felicity or something.

"That mask, it looks very comfortable."

"It is."

"How? I mean I've tried everything, I've made five moulds of my head so I can get it just right, but they all itch like hell after a while."

Well, at least there was one area in which his outfit was superior.

"It's a compressible micro-fabric. A friend made it for me and he's kind of indisposed right now, but Felicity might know what he used, I'll ask her, if you'd like."

"I'd appreciate it. If you want, I can hook you up with a couple of bolts of the Kevlar fabric, might save you a few scars in the future."

"Thanks, I think I have quite enough scars, for the time being at least."

"No problem."

"_Okay guys, if you've finished exchanging sewing tips, the alarm on the fire door is being bypassed right… now."_

"We're ready." Oliver had forgotten that Felicity could hear them.

They went to work and in short order, picked the lock on the fire escape and they headed into the stairwell. Once out of the sunlight, Oliver no longer felt ridiculous in his outfit, like a kid playing dress up, he felt like the warrior he was, with a legacy to continue.

He and Bruce went down one floor and from there, they entered an air shaft and after cutting hole, entered the crawl space above the suspended ceiling. The ceiling couldn't bear their weight, so Oliver shot a trick arrow into the next wall, with a rope line which they tied off and one at a time, they navigated the crawlspace, suspended from the rope.

* * *

John Egremont's nerves were visible to everyone he worked with, but they were used to him being stressed. Having recently acquired a division of Merlyn Global, they assumed his sweaty upper lip and jumpiness was due to his additional responsibilities, not to mention, the corporate reshuffling that often came with new acquisitions.

No one ever considered that his daughter wasn't at school in Europe but had in fact been kidnapped. Why would they?

As he entered his executive bathroom mid-afternoon, with a newspaper, no one questioned it, he'd been spending a lot of time in there recently.

It's fair to say though, that John Egremont got the shock of his life when a ceiling tile opened and not only the Arrow, but the Bat jumped down. He didn't look as frightened as both men expected though.

"John Egremont?" Oliver asked.

"Make it quick," he said to them, once he had regained the power of speech. He hadn't even made any attempt to get off the toilet or pull his pants up.

Both men were slightly appalled that he seemed to disregard the consequences his daughter might face if he were killed, but they weren't here to question his parenting skills.

"We're not going to kill you," Bruce said. "But if you tell anyone you were here, HIVE will."

Egremont nodded his understanding.

"You're making weapons with the Queen name on them, why?" Oliver demanded.

"I don't know."

"What exactly are you making?" Bruce asked.

"EMP bombs."

"You're making electro-magnetic bombs?" Bruce asked.

"To disable the enemy's electronics," he confirmed.

"Who are they being sold to?" Oliver demanded.

"The military, Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, you name it."

"What's the catch?"

"They're more powerful than they should be. I don't know for sure but my guess would be that once they're at their destinations, they'll be set off."

"Disabling our biggest bases," Bruce caught on.

"And leaving the entire country vulnerable to an attack," Oliver finished.

"When are they being shipped?" Oliver demanded.

"The army is coming in to transport them in two days. They're going all over the mainland, for testing, training and readied for shipping to our troops abroad."

Bruce and Oliver shared a look.

"Who do you report to?" Bruce demanded.

"I don't understand."

"Who got you to do this?" Bruce growled.

"The Bradley Michaels, the R&D Director. His division designed and tested it, mine built it."

"Do you know the name of anyone else involved?"

"No, no one else here is involved. They think we're fulfilling a contract for Queen Consolidated and everything is above board."

"How are you passing the shipments off as Queen goods?" Oliver asked.

"The paperwork is all forged, Brad has handled all meetings with the higher ups, pretending to be a Queen Consolidated employee. I don't know where he got the I.D. badge, but it looks genuine. So does the paperwork."

"What about your daughter?" Oliver asked.

"They have her. I get a ten minute webcam chat with her once a week, they email me a link, but I don't know where they're keeping her." His eyes welled with tears.

"When did she go missing?"

"Four months ago, when this started. My wife is a nervous wreck, she won't eat, she hardly sleeps, Doug gives me Xanax for her and I crush them into her drink, it's the only way to stop her going to the police."

"Tell no one about this," Bruce warned.

Egremont shook his head. "I wouldn't dare."

With that, the men disappeared back into the ceiling, replacing the tile as they went.

Egremont sat there in shock, wondering if that had been real, or a hallucination brought on by stress. God knew, he'd dreamed about someone riding to his rescue enough times.

'_It must have been a dream,'_ he decided. _'The vigilantes only come out at night and there's not a single trace of them left, not even a scuff mark on the floor.'_

He didn't question whether he believed that, or whether he just wanted to believe that. Either way, it would be easier not to tell anyone if he thought the visit had been a figment of his own imagination.

* * *

"So what's an ESP?" Roy asked.

"EMP, or Electro-Magnetic Pulse," Felicity answered, because it always fell to her to explain the technical aspect of anything. "Basically, it's a strong electromagnetic wave that creates a current within any electronic circuits that the wave passes through, overloading them."

"Huh?" Roy frowned.

She was pleasantly surprised when Bruce answered. "The pulse fries anything electronic within a certain radius, taking out cell phones, computers, radios, newer cars, anything that needs a circuit to operate, essentially blinding a village or small town."

"So once they cripple these military bases, then what?" Sara asked.

"Judging from their plan on the island," Oliver replied, "they'll probably launch a terrorist attack of some description, to cash in on the ensuing chaos and panic."

"And by blaming Queen Consolidated, destroy the company and Oliver" Bruce added. "The company will be bankrupted by legal and compensation claims, possibly even facing criminal charges. After such an attack, people will be looking for a scapegoat, which they will find in Oliver's at worst, faulty machinery or at best, his facilitating terrorists. The compensation claims would be so massive, the company will have to go into liquidation and Isabel or one of her companies, can buy it back."

"She gets the company she wanted in the first place," Sara finished. "Plus she makes Oliver public enemy number one."

"It's very clever," Roy admitted.

"That's one word for it," Oliver said darkly.

"Any news on the QC computers?" Sara asked.

"Mr Wayne's friend is still combing the records, just to be sure," Felicity said, "but he believes he's found every entry he can that talks of this order and Oliver's involvement, and changed it to look like Isabel is behind the transactions, which she is. He also discovered a massive payment from an unknown source, to QC's Applied Sciences division, which in the wake of events, will look like a payoff from terrorists."

"Once he's finished, I can talk to someone I trust in the FBI," Bruce said. "Tell him that Oliver is suspicious of this payment, worried about what it means, and is seeking quiet help from the authorities because he doesn't want to tip off whoever is behind this."

"And Sagittarius?" Sara asked.

"I'm in their system," Felicity explained. "I'm copying any incriminating evidence, especially if it points the finger at QC."

"Such as?" Bruce asked.

"Most of the incriminating stuff is by email, talk of the plan to pin this on QC and the best way to go about it. I already have more than enough to bury them, but I want to double check everything."

"Is that strictly necessary?" Alfred asked.

"Probably not, but I don't want to leave a stone unturned if it might point the finger at Oliver."

"Where are we on tracking the children?" Oliver asked.

"Good news, I think. I looked into the bank accounts we were able to identify and by cross referencing the date the kids were kidnapped with the people HIVE paid, I've found three accounts, each received two payment's, one a few days before the kids went missing, one three days later. All three accounts were credited on the same dates."

"So we have a team of three that kidnapped and are holding the children," Bruce surmised.

"These are the account names." Felicity brought up a page on the display screen, with a photographs and information. "First is Bette Sans Souci. She has a long history of selling her services to the highest bidder. Next is Tony Pegg, he's former military gone rogue. Smart and dangerous, he's being paid more than the others, so he's probably the mastermind of this particular plot. Lastly we have Roy Raymond. He's the youngest, and also the son of Roy Raymond Sr."

"The TV guy who investigates unsolved crimes?" Roy asked.

"That's him," she confirmed. "Evidently, the apple fell very far from that tree. I've printed out a dossier on them all and I'm combing police databases for their plates and any tickets, searching camera feeds for facial recognition, and I'm watching their, their parents, siblings, partners, ex partners, children and friends etc. credit and bank cards. One way or another, we will find these kids."

"And if we can't?" Bruce asked her kindly.

"If all that fails, we can ask Lance to put out a country wide Amber Alert but considering how many fingers HIVE have in so many pies, that will likely tip them off the moment it goes out over the wire."

"We can't do that," Oliver said. "If we don't find them, then we'd don't go to the police, that will only get them killed sooner."

"What do you suggest?" Bruce asked him.

"That we get to work. Failure is not an option.

* * *

24 hours of chasing every lead they had got them nowhere, although with only four hours sleep, they were all tired, short-tempered and sniping at each other.

"We're running out of time!" Oliver yelled. "If we don't find those kids…"

They all knew how that sentence ended. Either the kids would die, or hundreds would be killed in a terror attack. A lose/lose situation.

"We need a new plan," Bruce agreed. "A third option."

Silence reigned for a long few moments.

"I only see one option," Oliver broke the deafening silence. "If we can't get to those kids, we have to steal the EMPs."

"As soon as they find out, they'll kill the children," Sara argued.

"She's right," Felicity agreed.

"Then they can never know," Oliver said.

"So what, we sneak in and steal 500 units of these machines, without being discovered?" Roy sounded incredulous.

Oliver looked around everyone. "That's exactly what I intend to do."

* * *

Oliver watched as the two parties met, signed the paperwork and then made small talk, while the trucks were loaded with the crated EMP devices.

It wasn't a quick hand off, thanks to the size of the delivery.

From the plans that Felicity had found, each EMP could target an area three square miles and with this many, they could effectively cripple every major US city, if they wanted to.

After an eternity of beeping trucks, fork lifts and crates, the truck convoy was ready to roll. With a final handshake, the convoy departed.

Oliver sighed with relief.

"So far, so good."

He quickly ran to the opposite side of the rooftop and using a zip line arrow, rode it over to the next building.

* * *

Felicity watched as Alfred and Diggle approached her.

"Everything okay?" Felicity asked.

"Not a single God-damn hitch," Alfred smiled, using an American accent, which was pretty flawless. She supposed he'd lived here for long enough to have picked it up naturally.

"Bruce?"

"Right here!" He bounded over, pulling a cap off as he went.

Felicity stretched up to kiss him.

"Then let's get started."

* * *

"Mr Queen, I wasn't aware that you would be present at the transfer of goods?" General Lane greeted the CEO.

"I'm not, Sir. I'm here to inform you that you have been conned. My company didn't make the weapons you ordered, you were dealing with a company called Sagittarius, who forged documents to make it seem as if you were doing business with me."

"I don't understand," The general frowned.

"If you'll follow me?" Oliver led him, flanked by six of his men, into the warehouse, where dozens of army trucks were lined up.

"We collected the EMP's earlier tonight, Alfred Pennyworth played your part very well, General," Oliver explained.

Alfred acknowledged the praise with a nod of his head.

"You have stolen government property!" Lane yelled.

"If you'll hear us out, General, I think everything will become clear. It began when the Arrow discovered this plot but the people behind this have children held hostage, so he couldn't act. He asked if there was any way that we could collect the delivery."

"So the email I received this morning, changing the time and location of the shipment, was from you?"

"Yes, Sir, probably the only genuine email you've ever received from me. I also communicated with Sagittarius on your behalf, telling them you would be two hours early, allowing us time to bring the shipment here."

They were using an old aircraft hangar on the outskirts of Starling City.

"Why?" the General asked.

"The machines you were sold are defective," Bruce Wayne left the device he'd been examining and came over to them. "If you'll allow me to show you?"

General Lane nodded and followed Bruce to the EMP that Felicity was working on.

"This is the EMP," Felicity explained without any preamble. "The explosives in here cause the wire wrapped around to emit an electro-magnetic pulse when you press this button," she pointed to it. "Your machines came with a little something extra though."

"Oh?"

She pointed to a square box that rested on the armature cylinder.

"That is a timer," she explained. "Every EMP is set to detonate in thirty two hours, when they'll all be sitting in bases, ready to be tested or shipped abroad."

"It will have devastating effect," Oliver explained. "Leaving the bases and much of the United States, vulnerable to a terrorist attack."

"We ordered five hundred units!" Lane's pallor became grey as he considered how much damage these could've wrought. "My God!"

"We're removing the explosives from the armature cylinder as we speak," Felicity assured him. "The devices will be safe then, and you can see about removing the hidden timer in your own time."

"Why are they doing this, and framing you for it?"

"I believe the woman responsible, Isabel Rochev, wants my company, which wouldn't survive this scandal, and she wants to profit from the ensuing chaos of an attack. As for Sagittarius' involvement, I believe you'll find that at some point recently, one of Miss Rochev's companies acquired it."

"Who are the terror organisation?" Lane asked.

"No idea," Oliver answered. "She could have done a deal with the likes of Al Queda, or she could be the one with her finger on the trigger. Isabel Rochev's agenda here is to make money, and ruin me in the process."

"What about the children you spoke of?"

"They're the children of two Sagittarius employees, taken to ensure their cooperation with the plan. We don't know their location, that's why I couldn't simply tell you what I knew, I had to make it seem as if the military had taken collection, in order to buy us more time to find them."

General Lane looked around the warehouse. "Where did you find enough people to drive all these trucks?"

"In the glades mostly, people with a driving licence and the right look, I offered them all two thousand dollars for one week's work. Then we hired every Army uniform we could find, from consume shops, to wholesalers, to prop houses."

"You employed these people for a whole week?"

"I can't send them back to the glades until this is over. I don't want anyone to start talking about playing a soldier, not until the children are safe."

"And they believed these random men were Military?"

"Alfred was a captain in the British SAS, and he volunteered to be the front man for operation, playing you, essentially. My bodyguard, Mr Diggle, is former Special Forces and played the role of second in command and between them, they taught the other men a few tips and tricks for how to behave. The fact is, if most civilians see a uniform, they trust it. Luckily for us, it worked."

"So, what now?" General Lane asked.

"That's up to you, Sir. We've collected as much evidence of this conspiracy as we can but you might want to see this through. I think that's the only way to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt, that an attack is planned, and who is behind it."

General Lane nodded. "I'll call my superiors."

"No!" Oliver said with certainty. "This group have moles everywhere and if there's even a hint that they've been discovered, they might be able to remote detonate the bombs, as well as killing the children. We need to finish disarming these before doing anything else, then we have to try and find the children they're holding."

"Agreed." Lane nodded. "Whatever we do, will stay with me and my men for the time being."

"Can you trust them?" Oliver asked.

"I know all these men personally, and I would trust them with my life."

"Understood," that was good enough for Oliver. "Do you have anyone trained in dismantling IEDs?"

"Everyone had a little training."

"Well these are safer than IEDs as they're professionally made and can't be set off accidentally, but I would still want trained men working on them."

"And Bruce Wayne and the blonde woman are trained?" Lane asked.

"Not exactly," Oliver smiled. "But both are surprisingly well versed in electronics and EMP weapons."

Lane grunted his acceptance. "I'll debrief my men and we'll be back to help you in ten."

"We'll be waiting," Oliver assured him, going back to see how Felicity and Bruce were fairing at disarming the bombs.

* * *

With help from the soldiers and by working through the night, all 500 of the EMP's had been disarmed by the following morning and were setting off in conveys for their various destinations.

General Lane remained behind with a few of his best trained men, to discuss strategy, for example, which military bases would likely be the focus of the attacks.

Felicity was asleep, her head on the table as the men talked. Of all of them, she was the least well rested, as she had been up with her computers for the last few nights.

When her phone beeped loudly and unexpectedly, her head shot up off the table. "What's happening?"

"Your phone," Oliver told her, still surprised by how well her army fatigues suited her, even if they were rather rumbled by now.

Felicity fished her phone out of her pocket and her eyes widened.

"Roy Raymond's sister just received a call from a payphone on the outskirts of Dallas."

"Does she have any friends or family in that area?" Oliver asked.

"No, not that I could find." Felicity pulled her tablet out and began typing.

"It could be anyone," General Lane argued.

"And we can't go in to the area until we know exactly where the children are being kept," Bruce agreed.

"The NSA monitors all phone calls," Felicity reminded them.

"It'll take an age for them to voluntarily give us that recording." Lane argued.

"Right," Felicity agreed. "Which is why I didn't give them a choice." She pressed a few more things on the touch screen and a conversation began to play.

"_Hello?"_ It was a female voice.

"_Hey, Kel, how are you?"_ Said the presumed Roy Raymond Jr.

"_Roy? Is that you? Where have you been?" _

"_I told you, I had a job offer." _

"_And didn't call for over three months! Where was this job, the arctic?"_

"_Please, Kel, just calm down and listen, please. I have something important to tell you." _

_There was a long suffering sigh then. "Go on." _

"_I can't tell you how or why, but you have to believe me on this. Pack the kids and Steve up and take a family vacation somewhere remote, preferably secure too."_

"_Roy, I can't just up and leave with my family, we both have jobs and the kids have school, we-"_

"_KELLY! You have to do this! Please, I'm begging you, find somewhere remote and hide, things could get very ugly for a few days." _

"_You're scaring me." _

"_Good, I've got to go, just… please, believe me on this one." _

"_What have you got yourself involved with this time?" _

"_Just do it Kelly. I love you. Bye."_ The line went dead.

"There were a few GPS phones near to that payphone during the call, but only belongs to a burner phone," Felicity said. "That phone is currently heading south on Highway 45, towards the town of Ferris. I'll keep tracing it."

"I think that's our call to arms, gentlemen." General Lane got to his feet and his soldiers snapped to attention.

"No," Bruce said. "You need to stay here and arrest the terrorists. We'll get the kids back."

"You two?" Lane looked between Oliver and Bruce, his incredulity palpable.

"With a little help, yes," Bruce agreed.

"What kind of help?" Lane demanded.

"The illegal and stealthy kind," Felicity said. "The kind that hacks into government databases and cuts through red tape. They can do this, General, especially with my help to guide them in."

Lane was wavering and Diggle pressed the point home.

"You really will be more help here, Sir. We're only talking two kids and three kidnappers down in Dallas, but who knows how many terrorists will be involved in the attack."

"All right, I don't like it but I'll agree to let you and your… friends handle this, but I want to be kept informed."

"Understood," Oliver agreed, then he and Bruce left the room.

"You aren't going with them?" Lane asked Diggle.

"With respect sir, you'll need me more."

Lane clearly didn't like this turn of events but in the face of an eminent terror attack, he had little choice.

"I'm staying too," Felicity said. "I'll get you as much intel as I can, in a second." She slipped from the room and ran to catch up with Bruce and Oliver.

"It's going to be okay," Oliver assured her.

"I know, and I trust you guys, which is why I'm only going to wish you luck, not say goodbye."

She hugged them each in turn, stealing a quick kiss from Bruce, then watched as they walked away.

"You okay?" Diggle asked a few minutes later as he came to stand beside her.

"Yeah." She sighed.

"Come on," Diggle encouraged. "Dwelling on the dangers never helps."

* * *

AN2: I cant say anything about who Felicity ends up with without giving it away but whatever you are thinking, you will probably be in for a surprise. That's really all I can say. Although I cant tell you why, please don't give up on the story.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN:** Well, this has been quite a journey, and I'm pleased to be able to finish before next week's episodes ruins what I've written. For another few days at least, this is my own personal canon.

Thank you to everyone who's come with me on this journey, your comments have inspired me and warmed my lil fangirl heart :D

And it's good to see that Flamer is still with us. Even when people hate my work, they apparently can't resist it, so I must be doing something very right. I'm addictive! This is literal crack-fic that you just can't stop reading! (for some reason, I heard that last line in William Shatner's voice, with his staccato speech pattern. #Random #Weird).

Nearly done with the action, repercussions still to come.

So, here we go, final chapter and a little epilogue. I have a few notes at the end which I suggest anyone who is unhappy reads, just explaining my understanding of these characters and why things turned out this way.

**Chapter Eight**

Bruce Wayne's private jet was more than a rich man's toy, designed for the military, it put speed and stealth ahead of comfort, and it had them landing in Dallas in under two hours. The stealth technology kept them off the radar, while the vectored thrusters allowed for a vertical take-off and landing, negating the need for a runway.

Felicity guided them as close to the GPS signal as she could. When she found another two GPS signals in the same immediate area, also registered to burner phones, they knew they had the right location. Felicity told them that it was an abandoned farmhouse, about thirty miles from the nearest town and barely habitable.

They landed the jet behind a ridge and hiked the rest of the way, using the trees as cover.

"We're in place," Oliver told Felicity.

"Got it. Cell towers are down so they can't call out."

"We're up," Oliver said to Bruce. Both men had a glint in their eyes, one that said they were looking forward to the ensuing fight.

Unfortunately, the fight didn't last long and the kidnappers were quickly subdued. The first, guarding the perimeter of the house, was taken down using tranquiliser dart. As soon as he was out, they moved inside, which was made considerably easier than it might have been, thanks to Bruce's thermal imaging binoculars. The children were in an upstairs room, while the other two kidnappers were in the kitchen, sitting at a makeshift table. The element of surprise ensured they were subdued in under a minute. After having their burner phones taken, all three captors were then zip ties to post with the least amount of rot, where they would stay until Felicity alerted the local police.

The children were thrilled, not only to have been rescued, but by superheroes no less. They looked underfed and unwashed but otherwise, unharmed.

Once back in the jet, Bruce gave them a lollypop which knocked them out, much to Oliver's ire.

"You don't drug kids!" he yelled when he realised what had happened.

"You do when it's in their best interests. They can't go back to their parents yet and they won't be happy being kept away, essentially held prisoner again. In the long run, this is kinder."

Oliver dropped it since he couldn't counter act the drug's effects, even if he had wanted to. Instead, he focused on ending this as soon as possible.

"How long till we're back at the warehouse outside of Starling?" Oliver asked.

"Thirty minutes."

Oliver got the burner phones out. "They're secured with a pin code."

"Felicity will be able to break it."

"I'm sure she will," Oliver agreed.

They sat in stony silence, until Bruce broke it.

"I get that you have feelings for her, and I get why. What I don't get, is why you won't act on them."

"You see nothing wrong with knocking children out, of course you wouldn't get it."

"Oliver, she loves you. I know you pretend to be clueless but you aren't that clueless."

Oliver didn't answer and Bruce gave up. Silence reigned for a few long minutes.

"I'm no good for someone like her," he finally admitted. "She deserves better."

"Someone like me?" Bruce looked over at him, a smile on his lips.

"You weren't exactly what I had in mind."

"What then, white picket fences, 2.4 children and a golden retriever?"

"Something like that."

Bruce shook his head. "You made the mistake of thinking that because she isn't like us, she's normal, but Felicity is far from normal."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying the girl is probably the most intelligent person you'll ever meet, she's got smarts up the wazoo and she was never going to be happy as a housewife to some corporate suit."

"You're saying you can make her happy?" Oliver asked.

"I don't know, but I intend to do my best, for as long as she'll have me."

"That's just it though, how long will she have you? How long would she have either of us?"

"That's a fair point, but I don't intend to do this forever, Oliver."

"So what, one day you'll just quit?"

"One day, yes. I donned this suit not only to beat the crap out of the guys who are robbing Americans of their spirit, I did it to be a symbol of hope, to inspire people to take their own stand, in whatever ways they can. The Bat can be anyone, so could the Arrow. We aren't Oliver Queen and Bruce Wayne to the people of America, we're their next door neighbours, their teachers, their co-workers. We're everyman and if we can do it, they can do it too."

"You've given this a lot of thought."

"You haven't," Bruce said with a smile. "I get it, I do, you're like a soldier who's come back from a war zone, running from what you saw, what you did, and still fighting a war, just a different kind now, but you haven't given yourself time to stop and think. One day, you won't be able to fight anymore; you'll be dead or probably wishing you were, and what happens then? Who do the people look to then?"

"To you?"

"Do they? Or will you have inspired them to stand up and take their power back, to fight for what they believe in? People call us a lot of things, heroes, vigilantes, mercenaries, criminals but to most, we're figureheads. We're fighting for them and if _we_ will fight for them, maybe they'll consider themselves worthy enough to fight for _themselves_."

"Where do you pick up this crap?" Oliver asked, but his tone was light.

"I might have spent a little time in a monastery on my travels. They taught me that just as important as learning to fight, is understanding why we fight. Plus, they build those monasteries in the coolest places."

Both men smiled.

"We're here," Bruce told him and gently set the jet down on the tarmac.

They each carried a child out with them, and Oliver wasn't a bit sorry when Felicity chastised Bruce for drugging them. Bruce couldn't properly argue back either, since they were both dressed in their hero costumes.

"Where are Queen and Wayne?" General Lane asked.

"They're keeping an eye on the kidnappers until we're done. Besides, there are only four seats on the jet."

They carried the children inside and laid them on cots, where the soldiers had slept overnight.

After he laid the boy down, Felicity and Diggle checked them over for other injuries but aside from a little malnourishment, they seemed fine.

Felicity kept looking up at them, clearly wanting to say something but with Lane in the room, she couldn't speak freely.

When they were satisfied that the children were unharmed, Oliver handed her the confiscated cell phones.

"Can you do anything with these?" he asked, his voice deepened by the technology he used to alter it.

"I can try."

The phones turned out to be the break that they needed. Each cell phone had only dialled one number, also a burner phone, but that cell phone had called a number of others around the country, and they had called only a few others.

With a little more hacking, Felicity had a list of locations and text messages that had been sent between the burner phones, and the soldiers set about transcribing the voice calls.

The picture that emerged was of an uneven web, scattered around the country congregating on the larger based that had taken delivery of one or more EMP devices.

Felicity explained the pins she had placed in a map to everyone present. Each pin was someone with a cell phone and their location.

"Which one is Isabel Rochev?" Oliver asked.

"She's not on there." Felicity answered.

"Why not?"

"Because she's gone back to her native Russia, although she's still coordinating everything from the burner cell she has with her."

"Plausible deniability," Bruce said. "She wasn't anywhere near when this happened and even if the phone is traced, there's no paper trail to link it to her."

"Maybe not," Felicity said with a smile. "But unfortunately, in the interest of minimising costs, she got a very middle of the road handset, one which came with preinstalled apps, like a video app, one that I can hack."

She passed the vigilantes her tablet, which had an image of an ear.

"Press play," she urged.

"_No, we stick to the plan, I don't care how uneasy you feel. We've been working on this for months and I will not let your nerves stop us."_

That was Isabel's voice, no question but in case there was ever any doubt, when she ended the call, she moved it from her ear so she could see witch button to press, and the camera caught a perfect angle of her face.

"Even with all this," General Lane said sounding weary. "Russia has no extradition treaty with the United States."

Oliver and Bruce shared a look.

"We'll get her back," they said in unison.

"How are we coming with transcribing the telephone conversations?" The general yelled to the troops at the next table.

"Nearly done, general. Once we run voice recognition, we'll have enough on these guys to make sure they never see the light of day again."

General Lane nodded his understanding.

Felicity spoke up next.

"Given all the information we have, and the fact that nothing is likely to tempt Isabel back to the States until she knows she's in the clear, I say we forgo the plan to pretend the attack worked, and use the GPS locations to move in and arrest these creeps."

"I'm inclined to agree with that assessment," General Lane said. He didn't exactly smile at her, Felicity thought his facial muscles probably weren't built for it, but he was generally a little less brusk with her than with the men. "Can you keep a track of the GPS signals?" he asked her.

"I'll upload a live feed to a secure website that you and your troops can access."

"I'd appreciate it." He nodded at her.

"Then if you'll excuse us, General, we have a terrorist to bring home." Oliver and Bruce left the room.

* * *

Felicity soon learned that when motivated, the military moved with speed and efficiency that impressed even her, and less than six hours after the last phone call had been transcribed, teams moved in on twelve locations around the country, arresting in excess of forty people.

Even more surprising, was the secrecy with which this was accomplished; not a single headline appeared online, on the TV or in print media, although Felicity conceded that this was helped by the fact that HIVE planned to fire missiles to cripple the powerless bases, which required them to be in rather remote locations.

What was also surprising, was that once the arrests were made, there were one or two well-known names linked to the scheme, other businessmen in HIVE, probably participating so that they could cash in on the panic, and drop in share prices which always followed such events.

Soldiers were also dispatched to arrest the kidnappers, who were still tied up in the house they had kept the children in.

Having a mobile command unit as part of the convoy, the General was able to coordinate everything from the hanger on the edge of Starling City, and once the dust had settled and he was alone with Diggle and Felicity, he assured her that she and her friend's names would be kept out of the documents.

"Well Bruce, maybe, but since the machines are covered in Queen Consolidated logo's how exactly can you keep Oliver out of this?"

The general cocked his head to the side.

"Please, give me some credit, young lady. I might not be as smart or tech savvy as you, but I am a trained soldier and I can recognise people by the way they hold themselves and interact."

The general looked to Diggle, who nodded that it was possible. When hunting terrorists, you didn't just look as a face, because those could be disguised or hidden.

"So you aren't going to turn them in?" Felicity asked.

"Before all this, I might have, and you too; hacking into the NSA?" he gaveher a stern look. "Now I can see you all play a vital role. Acting outside of the law is not something I can publically condone but privately, I can say that it's sometimes the only way. As long as you and your friends remain on the right side, I won't tell a soul."

Felicity smiled her thanks and with a nod at Diggle, the General left the room.

"How long do you think, before we hear from them?" She looked over to the people from the glades, who couldn't be allowed to leave until Isabel was in custody.

Diggle checked his watch. "Going by the time they made to Texas, I'd say they're there already. I'm sure they'll call as soon as they're back in the air."

Felicity nodded, and tried not to think of everything that could go wrong.

"They should have taken Roy and Sara with them," she said, spotting them among the Glades group. Oliver had wanted them on hand in case they were needed, but he hadn't wanted to endanger their identities any more than necessary, so they blended in, pretending to have been hired, like the others.

"Roy is still too unpredictable right now, and when operating illegally on foreign soil, you don't need that headache," Diggle reminded her of their earlier discissions.

"Well Sara then. I mean, she's like Ninja Barbie."

Dig smiled at the name. "And if Roy was the only one left, how long do you think it would be until he blew his cover?"

Felicity sighed, seeing the logic in his words, but her worry making her wish she didn't.

* * *

Isabel was surprised when she saw the reflection behind her but by the time she turned around, she had schooled her features into a neutral expression, carefully keeping her gaze away from the arrow which pointed at her heart. She leaned back against the desk and surreptitiously, pressed the silent alarm just below the edge.

"You're early," she told him.

"Your plan didn't work, we found the timers and deactivated the devices."

For a brief moment, rage flickered in her eyes. "And here I thought you had come for round two. We are in Russia again."

The bow twitched and she smiled.

"Please, Oliver, you think I don't know that it's you under that hood?"

"I don't care what you think, or what you think you know."

"You should, because as soon as I get home, I'll tell anyone who will listen."

"It'll be worth it to see you in prison, where you belong."

"That's not where I belong, Oliver, and we both know it."

When Oliver didn't twitch, Isabel smiled. "She didn't tell you, did she? Your Mom, I mean."

"She told me."

"Did she?" her smile widened. "Did she tell you that I was pregnant with your brother? Did she tell you that she made Robert force me have an abortion?"

Oliver couldn't stop the soft gasp that escaped his lips.

"You're lying."

"I have no reason to lie, Oliver. This house," she gestured around her. "This was my parents' house, my adopted parents, the Dribbins. They made me sleep in the basement and wait on them hand and foot. I buried them, their children, their servants and their friends in the back yard, ten years ago. I can see the graves from the window; I like that view. I bought this house from their estate. If I'm willing to admit to arranging nine murders, why would I lie about my son?"

Oliver made no reply.

"Queen Consolidated should have been mine, I was Roberts equal, far more than she was, and he loved me. I was the love of his life."

"Men will say a lot to get a woman into bed."

"Maybe, but he was telling the truth." She pouted playfully. "I can see you don't want to believe me, but it's true. The only reason he wouldn't leave her, was because of _you_. He made me have an abortion, kill my baby, because of you, because no matter how unworthy, you were his _heir_."

Her words were no longer playful, and Oliver's grip on his bow was wavering with these new revelations.

"Together, Robert and I could have ruled the world, then our son would've inherited our empire."

"You're delusional."

"No, just driven to reclaim what was rightfully mine, any way I could."

"Robert Queen was never yours."

"I still have his letters, the ones where he tells me how special I am, how much I mean to him, how sorry he is that we can't be together properly. But none of that matters now; I have reclaimed what is mine and if I can't have you arrested for Treason, I'll have you killed instead."

She pressed the hidden alarm button.

"I knew you were coming from the moment the kidnappers didn't call in on schedule, I've just been waiting since then, and I have to thank you for not making me wait too long." She gave him a chilling smile. "I've pressed a silent alarm, so my guards will be here any minute now. They were under orders to let you through, but to come when I pressed this."

"Try a third time," Oliver suggested. "They say the third time's a charm."

The rage returned as she realised he had bested her.

"You cut the alarm, very clever. They'll still be here before you can enact whatever your plan is. They're highly trained former KGB operatives, you don't stand a chance against them. It's over, Oliver. Put the bow down and I'll make your death quick."

To her surprise and pleasure, he lowered his bow and removed the arrow.

"You're sharper than I gave you credit for." She smiled.

Oliver ignored her and looked over her shoulder.

"All clear?" he asked, and Isabel turned, shocked to see the Bat standing behind her, having entered silently through the window behind her.

"All thirty security personnel are secured," Bruce answered. "They won't last long out in the elements though, so we'll radio the authorities once we're in the air.

"You aren't supposed to be here," Isabel told the Bat. "You aren't welcome here!"

"I'm not welcome a lot of places, Ma'am, but it hasn't stopped me yet."

"NO! You can't be here!" she turned to Oliver. "You're not supposed to have help! This is wrong, this is all wrong! My men were supposed to capture you!"

"Your men just weren't good enough," Oliver answered.

"No, this is not happening!" What was the bat doing here? Yes, he had broken into the HIVE facility in Starling and had managed to escape, but Oliver was a loner, just as the Bat seemed to be. She had never stopped to consider that they might work together. Who was he, and why was he here? He didn't belong here!

"Maybe you believe that your will is law and if you wanted it badly enough, reality will snap to your wishes," Bruce said. "Or maybe a lifetime of hating has finally driven you insane. Either way, lady, you're coming with us, the only question is, are we doing this the easy way, or the hard way?"

With a primordial scream, she launched herself at the Bat, fingers clawed to scratch his eyes out.

His hand came up and he fired a tazer at her, hitting her in the chest and sending her reeling to the floor before she could reach him.

She tried to curl into a ball. She knew she was beaten but she had to protect the only thing left that mattered, Robert Jr. She had been denied the right to bear his child so she was doing the next best thing, bearing his grandchild. Just three months old, not big enough to show yet, but she knew he was there, and she took comfort in his presence. She was doing this as much for him as for herself.

The battle was lost but the war was just beginning. She would be back, she would reclaim what Oliver had stolen from her and with his son at her side, they would lay waste to him and rule the Queen empire together; the love of Robert Queen's life and his grandson, they were the true heirs, the worthy heirs.

That was her last thought as she allowed unconsciousness to claim her.

* * *

Oliver pushed his hood back as he approached the unconscious Isabel.

"Is she smiling?" he asked Bruce.

"If she is, she won't be when she wakes up. The guards won't be out for much longer, we should go before they wake up."

Oliver nodded.

Bruce zip tied her ankles and wrists, then bent to pick her up, slinging her over his shoulder and Oliver didn't argue.

How had he worked beside her for the last four months and not seen her insanity?

The flight back to Starling was mostly silent and Oliver sat in the rear of the small jet, next to Isabel, as he brooded over what he had learned, that she had been pregnant with his brother. He didn't know how to feel about that and honestly, he didn't even want to _think_ about it. It meant that not only had be slept with his father's lover, he had slept with his half-brother's mother. The fact that the baby hadn't been born did nothing to help his unease.

And there was the fact that his mother had kept yet another secret from him. How big was her part in the abortion? His father could have used her as an excuse, a reason to justify his insistence, Moira could have been in the dark about that. The problem with hearing the same story from two liars, was that both sides could be false.

Did he have other half siblings out there? Ones that hadn't said anything to Robert about being pregnant?

He knew that he would come to terms with this eventually, he had no choice but to.

He also hoped that one day, there would be no more secrets in his father's closet, any Queen closet. He recognised the hypocrisy in his hope, because he lied every day, and he hated to every day. Maybe one day, he wouldn't need to lie any more, maybe one day, he could build his own family, with someone who knew every side of him and every secret he kept from others.

He looked to Bruce in the pilot's seat, and realised that he might have lost his chance to do that with Felicity.

Bruce was a good man, and he respected her and trusted her, things that it had taken Oliver many months to do. Now he realised that he had missed his opportunity, he could do something about it, he could ask her to pick him, but he couldn't do that to her. She was happy, and she deserved to be happy. He was selfish, but not selfish enough to take that from her, not when he couldn't promise to be better for her than Bruce.

So he would sit back and live with whatever choice she made, even if that choice took her away from him.

* * *

Bruce and Oliver had Isabel sandwiched between them as they exited the jet. Her feet had been freed but her hands were still secured behind her back.

Waiting for them was Lane, Diggle, Felicity and two of Lane's soldiers.

"Home so soon?" Felicity snapped, her smile was smug.

General Lane smiled at Isabel as they approached. "I trust you had a nice, if short, vacation," he sneered.

Isabel stood impassively between the heroes. There was no point in trying to fight, not yet. She would play along, watching and waiting, until the opportunity presented itself. She wouldn't fight her way out, that was beneath her. No, Isabel would bargain her way to freedom. She knew many secrets that men in power either wanted kept hidden, or wanted access to, and she would sell her secrets to the person who could promise her freedom.

Unfortunately, few people would care that Oliver was the Arrow and in fact, the news might even help repair some of the damage his mother has done, turning him from Oliver Queen, son of a murderess, into Oliver Queen, hero.

That was not acceptable.

"Take her into custody," Lane ordered, and the soldiers flanking him stepped forward to do just that.

Once they were out of earshot, the Arrow stepped closer to the general.

"General, Miss Rochev knows some… sensitive information about me and-"

"Your secret's safe." Felicity assured him. "And no, I didn't tell him, he guessed."

Oliver nodded his understanding, thinking that if any more people discovered who he was, he might as well go public with his identity.

"You're hurt," Felicity noticed a tear in the Arrow's suit and began looking for others on both of them.

"Isabel was well protected, but it's Just scrapes and bruises," Bruce assured her. "We're fine."

Felicity wanted to check for herself but while the General knew their secret, the other military and civilians here didn't and of she was overfamiliar with them, someone would figure out who they were, especially Bruce.

Somehow she resisted the urge to patch them up and kiss Bruce. It would be far easier to continue to resist if she wasn't here though.

"Well, if this is really over," Felicity said. "I should get to a bank, so we can pay the Glades helpers and send them home."

"Good idea." Oliver agreed.

"I'll go with you," Dig said, following her.

"Well, that seems like a good few day's work to me," Lane said, holding his hand out first to Bruce, then Oliver. "Thank you for your help, Gentlemen."

"Our pleasure, General."

"Thank you, General."

"Well, I'd better see about getting the heck out of here. The sooner I can ship Isabel off to Guantanamo, the easier I'll rest."

Oliver and Bruce could sympathise with that sentiment.

"Just one question before I go, where did you get all these military trucks?"

Oliver smiled. "Of everything that's happened, that's what you wonder?"

"It's the little things that bug the most," Lane argued.

"Wayne Enterprises used to make weapons and equipment for the Military. We chose not to continue with that and mothballed our vehicles. Luckily for us, the design of some hasn't changed in over two decades."

Lane smiled. "Very enterprising of you."

"It's there in the name," Bruce teased.

* * *

Malcolm Merlyn kicked the desk to smithereens when he learned that not only had their plan been thwarted, Isabel had been captured. She had been his partner in this, in everything, acting as the figurehead of HIVE, so that he might remain in the shadows, pulling strings from the grave.

It was an unlikely pairing, to be sure, but they seemed to have the same goals; money, power and destroying the Queens, Isabel for revenge on Robert, he for revenge on Moira and Oliver.

Her arrest would also mean the loss of his companies, specifically the divisions of Merlyn Global that one of her subsidiaries had bought, since the government would undoubtedly seize all her assets.

Gone.

Getting her out of Jail wouldn't change that either and besides, failure should be punished. He would rescue her one day, when he needed skills again.

For now, he got the top of the steps and turned around for his last glimpse of America. He didn't know when he would be back, but he would. Starling City owed him and once he had recalculated, he would collect that debt.

For now, he turned and entered the jet. The Cayman Islands weren't a bad place to lie low for a while and of course, what was left of his money was there.

He would recover from this setback and learn to thrive again, as he always did.

* * *

Felicity was glad to be home and thanks to so little sleep, she collapsed into bed at 9am and slept through to 7pm.

Not long after waking up, Oliver knocked on her door.

"Hey," she answered with a smile.

"How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks. I slept most of the day. You?"

"I'm good."

"You fought your way through dozens of guards earlier-"

"It wasn't dozens."

"-and I saw Diggle patch you up, so I know you're hurt."

"I've had far worse. Can I come in?"

"Sure," she opened the door wide and they settled in the living room.

"You know what I'm going to ask, don't you?" he said.

"You want to know if I'm going back to Starling with Bruce."

Oliver nodded.

"I don't know, I wish I did. He hasn't asked yet but if he does, I don't know how to answer."

"Don't feel guilty," he told her. "We'll miss you, I'll miss you but whatever your decision, we'll go on, I promise."

Felicity was touched by his words. Oliver had hauled her away from a job that she loved, because it suited his needs. To hear him putting the needs of someone else first, was quite a change. He was growing and she hoped, maturing.

"Can I tell you my decision later?" she asked.

Oliver was silent for a moment.

"No."

She must have looked hurt because he continued.

"I only mean that, you shouldn't have to justify anything to me. I you say you're going, I'll do anything to keep you here, and that isn't fair to you. If you want to go, go, no hard feelings. If you want to stay, I'll see you in the office tomorrow morning."

Felicity reached over and squeezed his hand. "Thank you for making this choice easier on me."

"You're welcome." He gave her one of his warm smiles, the sincere one he used on the few occasions that he was genuinely happy and relaxed.

"I'd better go," he told her. He bent to hiss her forehead as he left but he purposely didn't say goodbye, that felt a little like tempting fate.

Felicity fetched a pint of ice cream from her freezer, popped Game of Thrones into the DVD player, and planned to stress eat her way to a solution.

Before she had taken her forth mouthful, there came another knock at the door, this time it was Bruce. Although they hadn't made plans, she'd been expecting him to come.

"How are you?" he asked. Was that every heroes opening line, she wondered. Did they teach it in vigilante training school?

"I'm good, thanks. Want to come in?"

She led the second vigilante tonight into her living room and sat beside him on the couch, her body angled towards his.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" she guessed.

"Tomorrow morning. I've already been missed and although I don't have much to do with the day to day running, I've missed far too many board meetings recently, and people are starting to ask questions. I can't afford that."

"I understand," she smiled. She had a ringside seat for watching a different vigilante juggle his heroic responsibilities with his business ones.

"You've come to ask me to go with you, right?"

"I have."

"I don't know, Bruce, we haven't even known each other for a week, I can't just-"

He cut off her words with a finger over her lips.

"I know it's a big ask; I'm not just asking you to take a new job, I'm asking you to uproot your life and move to another city, and that's not the kind of choice you can make on the spur of the moment. For now, I'm just asking you to consider it. Take your time; days, weeks, months, however long you need, I'll wait as long as it takes for you to become the Smoaky to my Bandit."

She smiled. "That's really sweet, but unfair to you. I can't ask you to wait forever so one way or another, I'll have an answer for you tomorrow, even if it's just asking for more time."

Bruce nodded. "If that's what you want, you'll have it."

Felicity steeled herself for her next statement, afraid of his reaction.

"I actually have a present for you," she said. "I don't know if it'll help you with the healing process, or hinder it, but you might have noticed, I have a tendency to be curious and sometimes I poke my nose places it isn't wanted and get shot down. I hope this isn't one of those times."

Bruce nodded his understanding but didn't reply.

"Well, I've had spiders hunting for information for days now and the research is done and it's about you, so I can't really keep to from you, that would be unfair so I thought-"

Bruce captured her hands. "It's okay, just tell me."

Felicity took a deep breath, then removed one of her hands from his and reached into her pocket, with something clutched in her fist when she withdrew it.

"After you told me how the Scarecrow and… Julie died, I thought that insulin overdose was quite a unique signature for murder and I began to look into similar cases."

She had also discovered that 0209, the code for his RV, was the date of Julie's death, not her birth as Felicity had originally suspected. Not that it made much difference.

"There are twenty one other unsolved murders using the same method in the United States," Bruce answered immediately, further confirming her suspicions.

"Yeah, and probably some that weren't noticed; not all medical examiners are good."

"Thank you, but I already know all this."

"I'm betting what you don't know, is that globally, I've found another forty eight cases of murder using insulin. Interpol even has a file on it, although they missed thirteen cases, and I probably missed some too so…"

She was rambling again so she took a deep breath, in, and out, before carrying on.

"I found a case in Thailand where they brought a man in for questioning who was discovered at the scene. It was just bad luck, really, the police were there questioning people about an unrelated incident and walked into the office to find a dead man, and someone kneeling over him. He said he'd just walked in and discovered him on the floor but they brought him in for questioning anyway. They had to let him go because they didn't know if it was murder or natural causes, and there were no signs of a struggle. It took a few days to get the results of the autopsy and when they went to arrest him, they discovered that he had skipped town, never to be seen again. The name he gave was false but I was able to get a picture from their files. Running that through facial recognition, I came up with a name, Paul Moses, a former wet work operative for the CIA. Their files list him as dead, but if it's not him in the pictures, it's his twin. I don't know where he is now, but everything I've been able to find on the other murders and on him, is on this."

She opened her fist to show him a flash drive.

Bruce gulped as he looked at it. A part of her hoped he would tell her to keep it, that he had bigger fish to fry at home, that he was over her death, that he would stay with Felicity, but he didn't. He took the flashdrive from her upraised palm and looked at it, as though it contained a message from God himself. She could see the pain and grief in his eyes, probably still as fresh as the day he lost her.

Then after a few moments, he placed the drive in his pocket.

"Thank you," he said.

Felicity felt too choked up to reply, so she just smiled.

Bruce noticed that she was upset and pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," she assured him. It was just her bad luck that she had to fall for men with serious emotional problems, or men who were struck by lightning, or men who were still in love with their dead ex.

She leaned into him and breathed his scent in, trying to get her emotions under control.

When she pulled away, she smiled at him.

"So, did you have any plans for tonight?"

"I was hoping to spend it with a beautiful blonde," he told her.

"Well, I'm not really dressed for entertaining but if you don't mind, I have a pint of rapidly melting ice cream I could use a hand with."

"Best offer I've had all day," he assured her.

* * *

When Felicity turned over in bed, Bruce was gone, and the diffused light coming through the ajar bedroom door, told her that he was probably in the living room.

She pulled her robe on and padded barefoot down the short hallway to peer into her living room. Sitting on her couch was Bruce, her laptop balanced on his knees, the falshdrive plugged into the USB port.

She didn't blame him for wanting to see what was on there for himself, and she didn't feel as if he had gone behind her back, he had probably been unable to sleep and curiosity had got the better of him.

She did feel hurt though.

He hadn't noticed her approach, so she left as quietly as she had come, slipping under the coveres and pulling them tightly around her.

* * *

Felicity awoke early after a terrible night's sleep, not only because she was waiting to see when Bruce would return to bed (another two hours) but because of the choice she had to make. Oliver or Bruce.

It wasn't a relationship choice, because neither man was in a position to make a commitment to her, not the kind she would want.

Bruce couldn't properly commit until he had come to terms with Julie's death, and Oliver was still repeating his past mistakes, and dealing with the consequences.

But she knew who she was choosing, as painful at that choice might be, it was the only one she could live with.

She slipped from the bed, leaving Bruce sleeping, and took a shower before getting ready for the day.

She took her time putting her makeup on, concealing the dark smudges under her eyes and using it as a mask, a polished veneer that she could hide behind.

She heard Bruce moving around as she went to put the coffee on, and sat at the kitchen table to wait for him. She considered making breakfast but felt too nauseous to contemplate food yet. When Bruce joined her, hair still damp from the shower, she was on her second cup. He greeted her with a kiss, which she reciprocated, bittersweet as it was.

"When are you going?" she asked as he poured himself a coffee.

"Alfred's coming in about half an hour."

"And you're leaving straight away?"

"Might as well," he said. "Have you given any thought to my offer? I know I said it was open ended, and it is, but I'm hoping you'll leave me with a reason to be optimistic."

"I can't leave, Bruce, not yet. After everything with Isabel, the government will take control of her shares and QC is going to be in turmoil for some time, I'm sure. I can't leave Oliver to deal with that alone."

"So, what happens now?" he asked.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, taking a sip of her cooling coffee.

Bruce nodded. "If I ask you a question, will you answer honestly?"

"I promise." She had a feeling that she wasn't going to like the question, but he had been honest with her when she had asked, so she owed it to him.

"Do you love him?"

How could she lie? Tears pricked her eyes as she replied, "Yes."

Bruce nodded, taking the news better than she had expected. "Do you love me?"

Although her tears spilled over, she found a smile for him. "Yes."

Bruce rubbed the back of his neck and let out a long puff of air. "So where does that leave us?"

"As friends."

"You're choosing Oliver?" he asked.

"No, Bruce. I'm choosing me. I gave you that flashdrive because I couldn't keep it from you but also, to see if you were over her. You aren't. The fact is, neither you nor Oliver are ready for a relationship, and I deserve more than being a consolation prize."

"You know that isn't how I see you?" he reached across the table and took her hand.

"I don't know how you see me, but I do know you're still in love with Julie. And I get it and I'm not angry or anything, you loved her and that's beautiful… but she's gone now and I don't think you've faced that. You've run away, buried the pain but until you deal with it, it will corrode any relationship you try to have. Maybe finding her killer will give you what you need to allow yourself to grieve properly, and start to heal."

Her tears fell harder as she spoke because as painful as this was, it must be more so for him. He got up from the table and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. She received as much comfort as she gave him and when they leaned back, she put her hands on his cheeks and brought his head down, so their foreheads were pressed together.

"No matter what happens in the future, Bruce, I want you to know that I will always be your friend, you just have to pick up a phone and I'll come running."

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tightly against him.

"What if that's not enough?"

"For now, it has to be. I'm not saying 'never', Bruce, I'm just saying, 'not right now'. I hope one day, you'll understand why I have to do this."

"Oh, Smoaky, I do understand it, I even admire it… I just don't like it."

They both smiled.

"So now what?" he asked.

"You go back to your life, and I go back to mine, and in a few weeks or a few months, when this isn't quite so painful for either of us, I'll call you, see if maybe you want to catch a show, just as friends. Or you'll call me to tell me that Paul Moses is in custody, or a grave. Then… then we see if life has a second chance for us."

He pulled her to him, crushing her with the strength of his hug, as if trying to prove how much he cared about her.

She held on just as tightly.

When he finally pulled away, he had tears shining in his eyes as he gazed down at her.

"I'll come back for you."

"No," she placed a finger over his lips. "No promises, please. I won't even ask you to look after yourself because I know you'll take dangerous risks. Just, maybe promise me that you'll _try_ to come back in one piece?"

"I'll do my best, scouts honour."

"Thank you," she smiled, knowing it was the best he could offer her. "Well, you'd better go. Alfred must be waiting for you."

"He's been outside your door for about ten minutes." Bruce informed her. He stole one last kiss, a kiss that left her swooning and breathless, a kiss to remember, and that killed the pain of this parting, just for a little while, then he went to let Alfred into the apartment.

Alfred followed Bruce into the kitchen.

Bruce came up to Felicity again, placing a tender kiss on her lips. "Goodbye, Felicity."

"Goodbye, Bruce."

She followed him to the kitchen doorway, where she enveloped Alfred in a hug, which he evidently hadn't been expecting, as it took him a moment to hug her back.

"It's been a pleasure, Miss Felicity," he assured her, his voice a little raspy.

"And you, Alfred." Felicity released him and stepped back. "Look after him," she pleaded.

"I will do everything in my power, you have my word."

She nodded her understanding.

"Will you accompany us to the car?" Alfred asked. "We can drop you anywhere."

"Thank you but no, I need a minute."

She watched as he and Alfred headed to her door. She didn't know if she wanted Bruce to turn back or not but as he put his hand on the door handle, he did.

He gave her a sort of half-smile, one that even in such a short space of time, she had grown to love.

"This isn't over, Smoaky," he assured her in a deep and sure voice.

"It better not be."

She managed to hold her tears in check until the door closed, then as they fell, she made her way to the kitchen table and sat down. She wasn't one to wallow, but she had found that a little indulgence in sadness helped it to pass more quickly. Besides, she didn't want to run into him on her way out. Saying goodbye once was hard enough, she wasn't sure that she could do it again.

* * *

Oliver's morning was dragging on painfully slowly. He had arisen early, even for him, and each minute since had passed with an aching slowness. He walked around his apartment a few times, trying to familiarise himself with his new home, but his thoughts were too chaotic to allow him to pay his surrounding much mind.

The drive to QC was quiet and eventless. He stopped at the usual coffee shop and ordered their coffees and some attractive vanilla cupcakes. And a chocolate muffin. The pecan cookies looked too tempting to refuse too, then he realised that she was allergic to nuts. She liked this place so much because rather than the catch all "may contain nuts" that so many bakers used, they took great care here to ensure that the cakes and treats labelled as nut free, were. They even had colour coded equipment in the kitchen, to ensure that the same trays and utensils weren't used for nut and nut-free goods.

Then again, she had said she was allergic to peanuts, so was all nuts or only peanuts that she reacted to? He's have to ask but for now, no pecan cookies. He tried not to tap his toe as he waited for everything to be boxed up. Back at the car, he passed Diggle his coffee, then sat back and waited patiently as every single red light in Starling City conspired against him.

When they arrived at QC, Oliver half expected the press to be waiting for him, having caught wind of Isabel's arrest, but they hadn't. His morning would be filled with meetings with lawyers, federal agents and god only knew who else, but at least the share price wouldn't drop immediately, which was an additional headache that he didn't need right now.

He could feel his heart race as he stepped into the executive elevator, wondering if he would find Felicity at her desk, as he normally did.

How would be feel if she was there? How much worse would today be if she wasn't by his side?

He watched the indicator as it counted up the floors, and he wondered why his office had to be at the top? If he worked on the first floor, he would already know her choice by now.

Finally be herd the 'ping' that signalled they had arrived at the correct floor. The doors opened but Oliver couldn't bring himself to step out, afraid to know if she had made her choice, in case she hadn't chosen him. As the doors began to close, Diggle stepped forward and used his arm to keep them from shutting.

"You coming?"

Diggle's words were the push he needed, and no amount of waiting was going to change the outcome, so he might as well know now.

He stepped out into the elevator foyer and turned to look through the glass doors to his office and her desk.

She wasn't there.

The sensation that's flooded through him was akin to vertigo, as though the floor had tilted beneath his feet and he was falling.

Diggle rested a hand on his shoulder, and Oliver wondered how much he knew. Oliver hadn't said anything to him, but Diggle was perceptive, he had to know that her not being here was a sign of something significant.

"Come on, Oliver, we've got a long day ahead of us."

Somehow Oliver found the will to put one foot in front of the other and made it through to his desk. Suddenly he thought he understood why his father had always kept a bottle of scotch in his desk, a quick shot would make today a hell of a lot easier.

Instead, all he has was a coffee and four vanilla cupcakes, with cute, sparkly pale yellow frosting. He realised that he'd left the box of chocolate muffins down in the car but then, it didn't really matter if Felicity wasn't here to give them to.

He sat there for a moment, wondering where to begin.

"You okay, man?" Diggle asked him.

He turned his computer on and took a deep breath.

"I will be. Can you call HR and tell them I'll need an-"

The clack of Isabel's heels stopped him short and he closed his eyes, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose as he willed her to go away.

But wasn't Isabel in custody? And didn't her shoes sound a little more high pitched? He daren't hope and his eyes remained closed as the click of the shoes came closer.

"Seriously? Today of all days, you decide to forego my coffee?"

He tried to stifle the grin, since he was sure it would be so wide as to make him look just a teensy but maniacal, but he couldn't stop the smile as he opened his eyes.

"Relax Felicity, it's right here," he said, plucking hers from the cup holder, which had been blocked from her view by his computer screen.

The smile she gave him was sad and needing to cheer her up, he held the cupcakes out to her as well, which caused her to burst into tears.

Diggle looked at him, asking if he had this, or if he wanted Dig to take this one. He gestured for Diggle to leave, he'd handle this.

"Hey," he said, putting the coffee and cakes down and coming around the desk. "What's wrong?"

"You were nice to me! You're not supposed to be nice to me."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm feeling emotional and people being nice makes me cry. You have to be mean, or at least stern, I can handle that."

"Sorry." He had no intention of being stern or mean. Instead he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him.

"No, we have meetings and I can't go to meetings with mascara running down my face. I've already fixed it twice this morning!"

"The meetings will wait until you've fixed it a third time," he assured her, his voice soft and soothing, his hand gently rubbing her back. He felt himself relax as he inhaled the scent of her shampoo, as if that was his final clue that she was really here and this was more than just wishful thinking.

"You aren't here to say goodbye, right?" he checked? "Because that's just mean and then _I_ might cry."

Felicity leaned back and swiped at her eyes, smiling. "No."

"Good."

He dropped one hand from around her and reached for the cupcakes, handing them to her, then he reached back for her coffee and guided her over to the couches, Felicity didn't sit down though.

"We should get to work, I think today is going to be a very long day."

The phone on her desk began to ring but it wasn't loud and Oliver found it easy to ignore.

"No, we're going to sit here and talk until you feel better and only when we're ready, will today begin."

"I'm pretty sure a small army of federal agents are waiting down in reception."

"And they will stay there, being fed and watered on the company dime, until I answer that phone. Even if they try, no way is Diggle letting anyone in here without permission, Trust me, we'll be fine."

She smiled again and sat down, while he opened the cupcake box, holding the temptation under her nose.

"I'll get fat," she said, taking one. "Not all of us work out like the Terminator."

"But the brain burns more calories than muscle anyway." He didn't know that was true, but it sounded like it could be.

She laughed again, and took a bite of the cupcake.

"Oh man, that is good cake," she sighed.

"So, do you want to talk about it?"

Felicity looked into his eyes, her merriment fading.

"You don't have to."

"No, I just…"

"Did you say no because of me? Because all I want, is for you to be happy."

"No, Oliver, my life and choices do not revolve around you." She said it with humour but she also meant it. "Turns out that people who become vigilantes all have serious issues in their past, and Bruce has one he needs to deal with."

"How did you leave things?"

"We didn't burn any bridges and hopefully in a few weeks, it won't hurt to call him and catch up; we're still friends."

"Is that all you are?" he asked.

"Is that all _we_ are?" she countered.

"Felicity-"

She silenced him by stuffing a cupcake in his mouth. "See, it's a loaded question."

"Okay," he agreed, rather inelegantly around a mouthful of cupcake. "I won't pry."

"Good. And you have a bit of frosting right," she pointed to his cheek, "there."

He wiped the corner of his mouth. "Better."

"No."

He tried again and when he failed a third time, she wiped it away with her index finger, which she promptly popped into her own mouth. When he looked askance, she shrugged.

"What? It's too good to waste."

Although he wouldn't admit it, he evidently agreed, polishing the rest of his cupcake off in two more bites.

"Men," she rolled her eyes. "You have to savour it, not devour it like you haven't eaten in three weeks."

"What if you haven't eaten in three weeks?"

"Then, and only then, is it allowable to scarf a cupcake."

They shared a smile.

"So, ready to face a day of legalese and tedium?" he asked her.

"You make it sound so appealing," she teased. "But yeah, let's get this show on the road."

Oliver sat forward and began to clear up the cupcake wrappers, box and cardboard coffee cups, while Felicity got up to collect her tablet for the meetings. She paused at the door to his office and turned back.

"Oliver?"

He looked up after dumping everything in the trash.

"Thanks."

"It's just a cupcake."

"No, I mean, thanks for not making this weird, and thanks for being a good friend."

Oliver walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes as he willed her to believe him. "Whatever happens, I will always be your friend, Felicity."

"Promise me?"

"I promise."

He watched as she went to her desk and answered the phone.

"Oliver Queen's office … How many of them are there? … Can you please call Samson's and put in an order for lunch for eight, we'll also need morning and afternoon tea, coffee and snacks … Thanks Emma, send them up."

Oliver didn't know what the future held for them, and there was a good chance that he may have missed his shot with her. Whether things worked out with her and Bruce or not though, he intended to become the man that she seemed so sure he could be.

And maybe by the time he was worthy of her, she would still be single; lord knew, he was due some good luck.

* * *

**Epilogue**

"_Let's be blunt, Mr Queen, your company has now been directly involved in two terrorist attacks."_

"_One attack, one foiled attempt." Oliver corrected. _

"_Perhaps but the fact remains, we don't trust you."_

"_So what, you're just going to hang onto Isabel's shares?" _

"_Until a better solution can be found, yes." _

"_How do you expect the company to trade when half the shares are owned by faceless bureaucrats, who need everything sighed in triplicate and can't make a decision without holding a senate hearing?"_

"_Right now, Mr Queen, the health of your business doesn't bother us in the slightest."_

Oliver sighed as he remembered that day, that whole week really, when the business was taken over by suits and the IRS, crawling over every file and every accounting detail. Luckily, he had never used company funds for his Arrow business, that money had come from his trust fund only, and he didn't need to account to anyone for how he spent that.

Now, four weeks on, the business was barely treading water.

The official line was that they had received an IRS audit. There was no official line on Isabel's disappearance; flight records showed her returning to Russia, and the government were quite content to conveniently forget that the Bat and the Arrow had ever returned her. Even the Russians didn't seem to know her fate, so people speculated. Some said she had been killed by the KGB, others by a bitter businessman, whose company she had taken over and destroyed. Some preferred a happier tale and said that she had eloped, as unlikely as that was.

The business world however, didn't like change, and her absence translated into a reluctance to broker new deals with QC, although they didn't break existing contracts.

Oliver had spent the last four weeks putting out fires and reassuring investors and business partners during the day, and the evenings, arrowing as many bad guys as he could.

Felicity seemed okay, if a little melancholy at times.

They all had a bad feeling about HIVE. They had taken Isabel down but had no idea how large the organisation was, who else was involved and indeed, if anyone had stepped into her shoes. Hell, they didn't even know what had happened to Isabel; General Lane either couldn't or wouldn't tell them what had become of her.

The only good news he'd had recently, was that Laurel was improving, and she'd been allowed home for two family meals so far, and was going home for a whole night on Friday. She wasn't a prisoner there, but the rehab facility strongly believed in slowly reintroducing their patients back into their lives. It's easy to get and stay clean in a rehab facility, where patients had no temptation or responsibilities, but it was rather more difficult for the newly clean and sober to stay that way once they returned to their real lives, and their old problems resurfaced. Not to mention that most homes had alcohol in them and even if they didn't, there was not a shortage of shops and bars selling alcohol. Laurel had only been sober for only 5 weeks and as Sara explained to him, that sometimes wasn't enough time for a person to learn how to handle their demons.

"We have a delivery," Felicity said, pulling from his revere, and he looked up to see Diggle wheeling a dolly loaded with small wooden crates, like the one he used to keep his bow in. Felicity walked alongside Dig, carrying a thick manila envelope.

"I haven't ordered anything," Oliver said, coming around the desk. Diggle put the brakes on the dolly and handed Oliver a crowbar.

"You mind if I…?" Felicity waved the envelope.

"No." Oliver was more interested in the crates. "Has this been through security?" Oliver asked.

"It has. No signs of toxins or explosives, but they couldn't x-ray the crates."

"Why not, too big?"

"No, they're lined with something like lead."

Intrigued, Oliver used the crowbar to open the top crate, half expecting a nasty surprise. Once the lid was lose, he pulled it off and pulled out a handful of the packing straw, then the first smaller, wooden box.

Inside were arrow tips. He opened the next box, which held something that resembles a small grenade, only there was a hole through the centre.

"What is all this?" he asked Diggle.

"I don't know, man, but someone knows your secret."

"It's from Bruce," Felicity spoke up, her eyes skimming a letter as she spoke. "He says Alfred has modified some of his gadgets for you to attach to arrows. He's sent you diamond tipped arrows, which will cut through almost anything if fired with enough force. EMP arrow tips, modified and miniaturised versions of what Isabel was making. Flash-bang grenades, which are used to disorientate and subdue an opponent, acid arrow heads, which can eat through most metals and a sonic arrow, which is strong enough to shatter glass and painful enough to subdue, but won't shatter eardrums. There's also rods of a new, lightweight titanium alloy, which he says you might want to use for your arrow shafts. Finally he's sent you four bolts of a new microfiber which acts as a super thin Kevlar-like lining."

"What's the rest of that?" Oliver asked, noting that she was holding a sheaf of papers.

"I don't know, I'm still on his covering letter. He says… Oh my god!"

"What?"

Oliver and Diggle both approached her.

"He's bought the other half of your company," she looked up at Oliver, unsure if this would be good news or bad news. His expression gave nothing away though, so she went back to the letter, scanning the contents. "He pulled every string he has in Washington, using his unblemished history, his families generations of philanthropy and his desire not to see thousands of workers out of jobs etcetera etcetera … as long as we submit to yearly inspections and audits, the feds will leave us alone."

She looked up, shocked and pleased.

"Better him than the feds," Diggle said.

Oliver looked stunned. "How does he expect this to work?"

She continued skimming. "He says that the contract allows you to buy back a portion of his share each year, until Queen Consolidated is once again, a family business." Felicity read on. "_'I will appoint an agent to act in my interest and they will have full power of attorney over my shares in Queen Consolidated and voting rights. If she will accept, I enclose all necessary legal documents to enable Ms Felicity Megan Smoak to take on that role'_…" She looked up, shocked. "He didn't tell me he was going to do this, I swear."

"Any other surprises?" Oliver asked.

Felicity looked back to the letter. "He, uh, he wants me to take on the role of Chief Operations Officer, with the salary and bonuses commensurate to such a position, and he wants to appoint John Diggle to Chairman, so he can mediate any disagreements." She had to smile at that last part. "His salary is also to be increased to reflect this new role."

"It isn't enough we fight crime, now we have to look after his interests? How are we supposed to find the time to do all this?" Diggle asked.

"The role of chairman will give you much less work that you have now," Felicity explained. "It's more of a figurehead position. If I can find Oliver and I good executive assistants, then our role is more of an overseer, the actual work will be done by underlings, we just have to approve it and sign off on various things. With the computer programs I've already written to facilitate Oliver's work, we should all have more time for Arrow work, not less. Not to mention, no Feds looking over our shoulders every day"

"Anything else?" Oliver asked.

Felicity checked. "The rest seems to be the contracts."

"So this isn't final then?"

"Oh no, Bruce has bought half your company from the government. The only thing left to sign is the documents giving me power to oversee his interest, Dig's appointment to chairman, and his agreement to let you buy back your company in stages."

Oliver didn't quite know how to feel about this. Sure, he liked and respected Bruce, and having him as a business partner was far preferable to Isabel or the government. Having the Wayne name attached would also inspire more confidence in the company. Still, QC was his baby and despite himself, he was a little resentful at not being consulted.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to an unopened C4 envelope.

"That's a letter for me," Felicity explained. "A personal one."

Oliver nodded and although the curiosity was killing him, he didn't question it any further.

"I'd better call legal then," Oliver said, returning to his desk. "They should go over everything before you sign."

Felicity nodded. "Right." She folded the small envelope and put it in her pocket, clearly intending to wait until she was alone to read the contents.

* * *

With a fortifying glass of wine in hand, Felicity sat on her couch and opened Bruce's letter.

'_Dear Smoaky,_

_I'm not sure how to word this, or even of what I want to say,'_ the letter began. _'I'm in Australia as I write this, following a lead on Moses.'_

She knew that, she'd been following sightings of the Bat on the internet, so she knew exactly where he had been.

'_I didn't realise how completely I had buried my feelings until now, when I've been forced to face them.'_

'_Ouch,_' she thought, taking a long sip of wine before continuing.

'_My feelings for you haven't changed but you were right, and I can't commit properly, not until I've caught her killer and this is over. You deserve more than I can give right now._

_I don't know how much longer this will go on, Moses is a slippery customer, but even if I can't give you everything you need at the moment, I hope that the next time I'm in the States, you'll agree to have dinner with me, as a friend._

_I also hope that you realise that my buying QC and asking you to oversee my interest, is a sign of my faith in you, and my desire to make things easier for you and your team, not at attempt to increase your workload to make my life easier, or to steal Oliver's company._

_If you need anything, work related, Oliver related or personal, please don't hesitate to call Alfred. He told me that you had already called to see that he was all right. His stiff upper lip won't allow him to tell you how touching he finds your consideration, but he cares for you and would do anything for you, as do and would I._

_I never was very good at letter writing but hearing your voice would be too painful at the moment, so it seems like the best way. If you want to reply, Alfred will make sure the letter reaches me, one way or the other. _

_Stay safe, _

_Your friend and pen-pal,_

_Bruce X'_

Felicity set the letter down and sipped her wine as she contemplated its contents. She didn't know how successful his hunt would be but she had faith in him.

She didn't know what he future held for her but with friends like Oliver and Bruce, she knew had no right to feel sorry for herself.

She was a lucky woman and if her eyes stung with sadness occasionally, it only to served to remind her to enjoy the good times when they came.

* * *

Read below for two plot outlines for who Felicity ends up with.

**AN:** Okay, so I knew I was never going to please everyone, some of you wanted Oliver/Felicity, some Bruce/Felicity, so with this ending, I've probably pleased no one. As I said earlier, I let the characters drive me, _they_ tell _me_ what to do, I just write it. I hope I've made Felicity's reasoning clear in the story but if not, I'm going to try and explain why, to me at least, this _is_ a happy ending.

Oliver slept with sisters, again, within less than a year of each other, while the sister he betrayed first time around is clearly in pain and on a downward spiral. I don't think that's a man that Felicity would respect, and she couldn't be with someone that she doesn't respect. She has too much self-esteem to become a notch in his bedpost and right now, he doesn't have the maturity to value a good relationship (unless it's platonic) and I would fully expect him to have a few mishaps or relapses over the next few months. He's growing and changing, but change doesn't happen overnight.

Felicity is the kind of person who forgives and forgets (or at least, doesn't hold grudges) but she won't allow herself to be used as Oliver's practice relationship or rebound girl. She is the real deal, and she'll wait for him to be ready.

As for Oliver, I think he's finally growing up, finally realising that sexual relationships are about more than good sex and although he's finally awoken to his feelings for Felicity, he doesn't want to break her heart, and he has enough insight into himself not to push for more until he's ready to commit properly, and she's ready to accept that he has changed.

As far as Bruce goes, he does love Felicity, he just loves someone else too and until he deals with Julie's loss, Felicity will forever live in her shadow, never feeling good enough because the dead are only remembered for their strengths, not their faults. Dating widowers (they weren't married, but there's no word for a bereaved boyfriend) is hard enough but when the grief is still raw, festering just below the surface, it's almost impossible to have a healthy relationship. Not only are you compared to an unrealistic, idealised vision of a lost love, widowers often feel guilty for moving on and loving someone else, as if they are committing adultery and betraying the woman they loved. Even although it's not logical to feel that way (when are emptions ever logical) this can breed resentment of the new partner.

Felicity has come to realise that she doesn't need a man in her life in order to feel whole; she's an accomplished woman in her own right and she'd rather be single, than settle for a relationship that isn't right.

As she said to Bruce, she's not saying never, she just saying, not right now. Oliver realises that 'right now' isn't their time either.

What Felicity does now have, is two very good friends, who both appreciate and value her and for the moment, that's more than enough.

I think this ending is empowering, because we get to see that Felicity isn't someone who will settle for second best, or Mr Almost-Right or even worse, Mr Wrong. She knows she's worth more than that and when she does choose someone, it will be because she loves, trusts and respects them, not because she needs them.

I don't have time to write these endings but if someone wants to run with the ideas, feel free to write a sequel, or use your own plot in writing a sequel (and please link me to it, I'd love to read it).

**Ending 1 – Bruce/Felicity**

After hunting Paul Moses for six months, Bruce finds and imprisons him. He wanders for a time, seeking advice and solace on the way, trying to come to terms with Julie's death.

Final returning to Gotham, he isn't ready to move on but he and Felicity see each other as friends, which slowly grows into more.

**Ending 2 – Oliver/Felicity**

After hunting Paul Moses for a year, Bruce finds him and when Moses taunts him about his inability to save Julie, Bruce kills him. Eaten up with grief at having given into vengeance, rather than pursuing justice, he runs from himself, fighting crime all over the world, trying to make up for taking a life and betraying his own ideals, frequently endangering his own life in a series of unnecessary and dangerous risks. His self-hatred takes him on a downward spiral, drinking, gambling, womanising and refusing all offers of help or counselling.

Felicity tracks him as best she can but when she goes to talk some sense into him, he repeatedly pushes Felicity away, trying to hurt her in order to make her leave him alone.

Oliver has been proving that he can be a better man and his friendship with Felicity deepens as a result. He comforts her when she worries about Bruce, and councils her when Bruce hurts her. Slowly they reach new levels of trust and when he finally asks her out on a date, in honour of the anniversary when they first met, she accepts.

Bruce finally comes within a hairs breath of getting himself killed and only the Arrow's intervention saves him. Having reached rock bottom, he grudgingly accepts help, most of which comes from Oliver and Alfred, both of whom know what it's like to kill.

Bruce learns to live with his guilt and although sorry that he missed his opportunity with Felicity, he can't begrudge her happiness with Oliver and they remain friends.


End file.
